tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75402703240824753952024-03-14T06:47:40.900-05:00Night of the Harvest MoonThe Wild Okies Days of LoveWild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-40337205742706983732013-10-31T01:00:00.000-05:002014-03-20T11:16:22.726-05:00Tainted Blood<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-right: 22.5pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.25in;"><i>by <a href="http://kathylwheeler.com/" target="_blank">Kathy L Wheeler</a></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace Cupardé was a ghost. Specifically, Cupid’s ghost. And being a
ghost was no picnic. She longed to let loose her displeasure with a few choice
words. But, unfortunately, as Cupid (ghost or not, withstanding) that was an
impossibility. Choice words just would not form on her tongue. If she tried to
say “damn” it came out as “dart.” “Bastard” formed as<i> button</i> on her disobedient tongue, and if she tried to
say “hell”—you guessed it: the word “heart” spewed forth. And well,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>heart</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> just </span>lacked certain satisfactory elements.
Like telling the devil to go to—<i>heart</i>? Most irritating.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace was almost certain her long-time friend Dracula (hereto referred
as devil), also better known as creepy-scary-vampire-guy, had found some way to
divest Candace of her one opportunity of transforming back into her former
magical self. And she was furious.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Honestly, Candi—” Drac started.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Don’t call me that.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“It’s your name. Besides, I like it. It makes me want chocolate.” Drac’s somewhat
dramatic sigh was almost comical. “I wish chocolate sustained me like blood.
It’s much more appetizing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Some big bad vampire, you are,” she muttered.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“So what do you think of our party so far?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“<i>Our</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>party?” Candace
hovered in the cobwebs next to Drac and looked out over a menacing array of
monsters. She spotted Frankenstein, the Mummy, several ghouls. Igor was seen escorting an attractive young man carrying Mya through the hall to an empty chamber. She was a selkie. Candace looked back at Drac situated
on a long black chandelier bar, between two flaming sconces.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Certainly. You and I are a team,” he said with a pointed gaze in her
direction. “That was some miracle you worked on Ren and Wendy.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace was down to four arrows. She needed to unite five couples in
love.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>True love.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A tricky business, as there had to be
the sustenance for the love to take hold and stick. “I had to do that. You were
about to sink your teeth into her pretty little neck,” she said glumly. His
eyes twinkled with mischief, his grin cheeky. “Oh, go to—” She stopped, shook
her head, exasperated. It just wouldn’t have the same impact.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac wasn’t a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>bad</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>vampire as far as vampires went. In
fact, most of the time she really liked him, adored him in fact. Her heart
(when she’d had a heart) fluttered like a flock of butterflies when he was
near. He was so<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>dart</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>attractive. So much so, that sometimes
she found herself wishing . . .</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace pushed away the notion, frustrated. There wasn’t anything she
could do about longings far beyond her control. She had no substance any
longer.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac laid his hand over hers . . . or tried. It passed through her hand,
all the way to the bar he sat on. He frowned.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“What?” She laughed, though it was strained and awkward. “Are you saying
you’re tired of blood?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Among other things.” Something in his voice caught.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Curious at this odd turn, she floated in front of him and looked him in
the eye. “What do you mean?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Avoiding her gaze, he shrugged. “The whole lifestyle is tiresome, if you
must know.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“You mean like being a filmy ghost where nothing and no one can latch
onto you?” she teased, shooting through the chandelier and back proving her
point.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">He scowled. “I suppose that’s what I mean, in a sense.” Drac hesitated,
lips pursed as if biting back a confession. He inhaled deeply, then said, “It’s
more along the lines of living in a tomb, never seeing the light of day, or
being able to check my appearance in the mirror.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Well,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>that</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I can certainly relate to,” she
muttered.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">He didn’t seem to hear her. “It was never my plan to become a vampire,
you know. The idea was my father’s. <i>He </i>was
the true Dracula. I fail to do the family name justice.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“I don’t understand.” Concern filled her. She’d never seen this side of
her longtime friend. Drac was always the confident,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>dart</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>dastardly, demon. Occasionally, a
fetching demon. One might even suggest dreamy demon.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Father was the one into everlasting life or some such drivel. I guess he
just never figured on being stabbed in the heart with a wooden cross by—” He
cleared his throat with a cough. “Er, uh, on a night similar to this.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Hmmm, fascinating</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">. “Similar to this?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">He threw out his hand. “A night of the harvest moon.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Ah,” she said. Her senses trembled</span></span><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 28px;">. Someone was in desperate need of her. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> “Hold on.” Candace dashed from the ballroom, slipping through the door where she'd seen Mya carried. She tugged an arrow from the quiver on her back and set her
bow. With a careful aim, she let it fly, stabbing the young man in the heart. His hand landed over his heart. Satisfied, </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.25in;">Candace whizzed back to Drac and studied him, frowning. She’d never seen
him like this before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Wistful. Regretful.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">And that was saying something. They’d known one another for years,
hundreds of them. “If you weren’t a blood-sucking vampire, what do you suppose
you would see yourself doing? You know? For a living.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The question seemed to surprise him. She kept one eye out over the
rambunctious monsters below. She still had three love connections to perform to
fulfill her duty in gaining back her substance. Then she’d be able to vacate
this cold, haunted manor.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“The blood is just for survival.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at his haughty
defense and murmured some placating nonsense.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">His gaze turned distant, his voice grew soft. “Two hundred years ago, I
yearned to serve under Wellington, help take down Napoleon. Instead, all I
managed was a bite out of him.” Drac shuddered. “His blood was tainted. I was
sick for months.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> “Yeah, but—”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“A little over a hundred years later, I had an inkling that decorated
veteran of World War I was trouble.” He scowled, furrowed his brows. “1923, I
believe. His attempted coup in Munich failed with a little help from<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>moi</i>, and he went to prison. But
as we learned later, that wasn’t near enough to deter him.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace frowned. “Decorated veteran. Who?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Adolf Hitler.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace colored at Drac’s appalled glance. “Oh.” He must think her a
complete dunce. Hitler was a true devil.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac’s gaze shifted below. “I should have killed the bastard when I had
the chance. But after that bout of illness with Napoleon . . . Well—”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Of course, words like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>button</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>formed easily enough for Drac! Candace
floated about, considering his words. “Yes, but what about now?” she insisted.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Rid the world of terrorism.” His response was quick and succinct.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. A wave of intense longing,
settled over her, and she turned quickly lest he read her emotions on her face.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac would have made a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>dart<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>dashing hero.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Heart!</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>If she had the magic to fix that for
him . . . well, it broke her (actual) heart. She turned back to him, fanning
her face (to no avail). “Oh, Drac,” she said gently. “You want . . . you
want . . .<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>world peace.</i>”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">***</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candi’s insight startled, and burned, through him. “Don’t be ridiculous,”
Drac said harshly. The emotions roiling through his cold veins made him feel
hot enough to<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>fear his
father’s ashes reassembled in nothing flat, and dog him to the gates of hell.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Ha!” Candi Cupardé fluttered about like a firefly, but with more spunk
and guile than he’d ever witnessed in his six hundred and fifty-five years
(give or take) life. In spite of her wispy presence, he admired her long, blond
waves and startling, blue eyes that rarely missed a thing.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">She thrust down through the air and pulled another arrow from her pouch
and aimed. Smack! Right into the heart of Simza Nuri. Only two left.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Pouting was<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>not</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a masculine trait, but Drac couldn’t
help it. For a man doomed to the cellars during daylight, Candi was the one
bright spot he counted on. Wasn’t it bad enough he was condemned to lie in a
sarcophagus, day after day after day? Whoever said immortality was the end all
had not had to live by that creed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Although, Madame Mirela assured him the possibility of five couples attending this shindig and finding love together was impossible, he didn’t trust the fortune teller an
inch. The woman had an agenda of her own. And if Candi did manage to do to join
five couples to true love, Drac would be forever alone. She was his destiny. Air
squeezed from his lungs like the vice of an iron bar.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Guilt swallowed him. Why couldn’t he just suck it up like a pint of
blood, and tell her how he felt? Let her know how much he loved her company.
How much he loved her.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>What
kind of selfish bastard kept Cupid to himself?</i></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Just the thought of letting her go nauseated him. He felt ill. More ill
than after he’d sunk his fangs into Ivan the Terrible in 1547. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>couldn’t</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>lose her. And with only one more pair
to unite, she’d be gone from him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Forever.<u1:p></u1:p></i></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> “Did you see that, Drac?” Her vivacious laugh pricked this heart like
a thousand needles. “Sebastian refused to let me help him, but he didn’t say
anything about my poking Natalie. The man is saved despite his protestations!”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac blinked, and she bobbed in front of him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Taunting</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>him.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">She giggled. “I’m going to make it. I have only one arrow left. Then I’ll
be free of this cold, dank life.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Red colored his vision in the depth of his fear. He covered it with rage.
“You might as well give it up, Candace,” he growled. “You aren’t going to win
this little battle. And there won’t be another Harvest Moon for two hundred
years.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Two more centuries with
her.</i></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The fury in her expression would have made him laugh if it hadn’t been so
frightening. In a flash, she jerked out the last arrow, set her bow and let go.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Tingles filled Drac’s vision, the red fading to spots of black and white.
He wavered on his perch.<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>“You
shot me?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Me?</i>”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>This was okay</i>, he thought.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Dead is okay</i>. “I won’t have to
live without you now, love,” he whispered.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">His grip loosened and he fell.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Free at last</i>.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">***</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Love? Drac said love?</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Igor!” Candace yelled. “Igor, catch him.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>And me</i>, but the words to save herself caught in her
throat. Candace struggled to fly, but her usual light reflexes were hampered by
weight she hadn’t needed to account for since the last harvest moon as she
tumbled through the air like a lead ball.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">An eternity later, she landed on legs that refused to support her
unexpected weight. She fell to her knees.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Igor lowered Drac’s unconscious form to the floor. Her throat burned as
she tried to swallow.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>It hurt.</i></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Everyone’s attention focused on Drac. He’d hate that. And now she’d
killed him. Candace laid her hand on his warm face.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Warm?—yes.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>To the touch. T.O.U.C.H!</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">How could that be? She gaped at a hand that should have gone through his
cheek . . . completely to other side.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Slowly she raised her eyes to the surrounding crowd. Their united gazes moved from Drac to her. She swallowed again. But none of that mattered. She
dropped her eyes back to Drac, clasped his hand in hers and held it to her
chest. “Drac, Drac, I’m sorry. Please don’t die. I love you.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">An eerily silence filled the room. Candace raised her head to a parting crowd for the imposing figure of Madame Mirela. She sashayed through
the makeshift isle, her full-hooped, Victorian, solid black dress sweeping the
floor with each step. Venom dripped from her sooty lashes.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">She tipped her elegantly coiffed head in Candace’s direction. “<i>Mademoiselle</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Cupardé.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“What are you doing here?” Candace demanded. An urge to protect Drac
enveloped her. She scooted closer, tempted to throw her body over hims.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Lips tightened and disgust marring her brow, the woman seethed fury.
“Your flimsy arrows are only good for striking at the heart of lovers already
destined for one another or . . . or building furniture.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“What do you mean?” Candace prayed she understood Madame Mirela
correctly. But one glance at Drac’s pale countenance. . .</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Only the hardest of wood can take out a vampire such as<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> Dracula. Tis how his father met his
fate.” Hate shimmered in her gaze and Candace flinched.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Hope filled her despite the fortune teller’s censure. “I don’t
understand.” Of course, Candace's arrows were for striking love into hearts not
for killing vampires.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“His father drove me to madness and now I have lost his son.” Skirts
rustled and bodies shifted at Madame Mirela’s shocking confession.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Horrified, Candace spoke without thinking. “You killed Drac’s father two
hundred years ago?” A wisp of memory curdled her insides. “The last Harvest
Moon. . .” her voice trailed. Candace had whisked through the ballroom,
determined to help Drac’s unappreciative father. He’d been<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hell</i>-bent on wreaking havoc
throughout the region. Drac had been miserable, embarrassed by his father’s
antics. The bloodthirsty<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>bastard</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>had shown no mercy to anyone in his
path. Candace would have suffered as well, if Sebastian hadn’t already choked the
life from her. She owed Sebastian for that at least.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace looked down at Drac. “He’s so pale,” she whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">But a night of the harvest moon promised miracles and to her relief Drac’s
lashes fluttered then opened. He pinned her with a direct, unrelenting fix.
“You love me?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Yes, of course. I’ve loved you for centuries.” She frowned, confusion
filling her. “Why aren’t you dead?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">With Igor’s help, Drac rose to sitting. “I-I don’t know.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“<i>Bonjour</i>, Dracula.” Madame Mirela turned her viperous demeanor on Drac.
“Much to your regret, you fool, your sweet<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Candi</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>has fulfilled her bargain.” She
laughed, but it resembled nothing like humor. “She is no longer just <i>your
</i>ghost.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Oh.” Despite the throng of individuals (monsters and such) standing
about, Drac’s desolation in that one tiny syllable reverberated throughout the
ballroom. A thrill of excitement shot up Candace's spine. From the corner of her eye she spotted Wendy in her bright red gown, her lips moving with some incantation. Candace prayed it didn't backfire on them all.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Alas, her final arrow was not for decimating vampires—the one through
your heart—was not of the correct type of wood.” Madame Mirela hissed. “Ash,
oak, alder, holly.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace wrinkled her nose as her words penetrated. “Are you telling me that the arrow I shot
through Drac did not make him call me ‘love’?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Bah.” Disdain pinched her haughty features, and she sniffed. “A
ridiculous notion. You have no power over love.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac leaped to his feet, seemingly fully recovered, anger radiating. Candace glanced quickly at Wendy now sporting a satisfied quirk on her face. “Don’t you speak to her like that, old woman,” he hissed. “She’s Cupid! She’s
helped millions find their life’s mate. Perhaps millions more, if I hadn’t been
so selfish keeping her for my own the last two centuries.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace sat back on her heels, mesmerized by Drac’s dramatic display. He
opened his mouth to expose his fangs. The crowd gasped, stepped back. But
Candace didn’t see his fangs. Where were his fangs?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Gone. Drac’s fangs were gone.<u1:p></u1:p></i></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Drac,” she whispered. “What have I done?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Madame Mirela bristled. “You are nothing,” she said to Drac. Her shrill
voice screeched through the ballroom, threatening the fragility of the
champagne glasses. The old woman turned to Candace, piercing her with such loathing,
she flinched. “This is all<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>your</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>fault. You’ve robbed him of his
immortality. He belonged to <i>me</i>. And,
now—I have nothing. You’ve ruined me,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Mademoiselle</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Cupardé. But take heed. I shall have
my revenge, two hundred years hence.” Madam Mirela morphed into a crow and
soared across the ballroom through the opened French doors at the far end of
the hall.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drac straightened his shoulders and held out his hand to Candace. Candace
was touched by the slight tremble he failed to hide. “Come, my love.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Candace put her hand in his and rose to her feet on shaky legs.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Please, resume your good time,” he announced to a stunned audience. He
peered at Candace, eyes glittering with something undefined. “We’ve plans to
make, a sunrise to witness. Our first of many, together.” The clock struck the
witching hour as he touched his lips to hers. Warm. Delicious.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Are you truly okay, Drac?” She glanced over her shoulder to the French
doors.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“I am,” he said, tugging her to the balcony doors. Drac tucked her hand
into his arm and said, “She’s gone, darling, for at least two hundred more years.
Tell me. What sort of wooden arrows are those of yours?”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">“Willow, I believe. A soft wood. They wouldn’t hurt a flea,” she
promised. “Or a man no longer wishing to be a vampire.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395" name="_GoBack"></a>”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Thank you
for spending Halloween with the OKRWA Wildokie Writers. </span></i></span><i style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">For
information on <span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://okrwa.com/" target="_blank">OKRWA</a> even joining</span>, visit: our<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: windowtext;"><a href="http://okrwa.com/" target="_blank">website</a></span>.</span></i></div>
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Kathy L Wheelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14384045793607239512noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-40733521667710418072013-10-30T02:00:00.000-05:002013-10-30T08:25:47.673-05:00Into the Light by Calisa Rhose<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 200%;">Into the
Light</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">W</span></i></span>endy Parson
placed a hand over her pounding heart. If the crystals were right, Ren was in
the ostentatious manor in front of her. She ogled the rock and mortar building
in awe and a touch of fear. After all, this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i>the infamous Dracula’s castle and he would be the party host with his built in
ghost, or so rumors claimed.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy wondered how true it was that Cupid’s ghost
haunted those great halls within. Why not? She herself was a direct descendant
of the modern-day cartooned Wendy the good witch. If people only knew the cute
little witch in red that befriended Casper was actually real, would they
believe it? Probably
not. Perhaps Cupid’s ghost was only a wild rumor.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy lifted
her skirt and made her way in, following a group of party-goers through the
wide doors, immediately swept into the euphoric atmosphere. “Here goes nothing.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> No sense
guessing when she had a hand delivered invitation from Dracula to see
firsthand. She wasn’t sure why the vampire wanted her there…probably to take a
juicy bite. She almost hadn’t gone but the scrys called, so here she was,
fighting a shiver of eerie anticipation.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> After ten
long years she hoped to see her beloved once again. The fury that had driven
her for so long tried to surface but she pushed it away. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She needed answers. Why
had Ren left, broken her heart without a word? </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Her goal was
clear. Find Ren and get what she needed, then make him pay. That was the
necessary order of this night. And pay, he would.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> If her magic
cooperated.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Igor greeted
guests, his arms piled high with coats and hats nearly burying his head, making
his hunched back seem more prominent than she suspected it actually was. Wendy
added her cape with a sympathetic smile for the misshapen man.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> A footman
offered drinks and she accepted a glass of something red. Not blood,
thankfully, by its sweet aroma. Wendy
mingled, slowly taking in each face one by one. After an hour she had not recognized
a single face. Finding somewhere to conduct a little spell was critical. She
gazed around and side-stepped another guest, then bumped into someone else.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Sorry,” a
voice mumbled from behind.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Excuse me.”
Her arm brushed the person again. Confused, she turned to move out of the way,
but there was no one near her. The closest patron stood a good five feet from
her. “Odd.”</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* * * *</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Rengal
Fisher stepped to one side as the lady whirled, an apology uttered from those
lovely red lips. His darling, Wendy. The love of his heart. Once upon a time. In
a time before the evil Tessa revealed her jealousy. Her malevolent intent as
obvious as the bold white streak in Wendy’s raven locks.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Ren studied
the vision before him and his heart cracked open. How he’d missed her. Yes. She
was his love. He’d recognize that unpigmented strip of hair anywhere. The scrys
had spoken to her just as the gypsy promised they would.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> But now that
Wendy stood before him, he hadn’t a clue how to reach out to her. She would
never accept him as he was, as Tessa had cursed him to live. How could Wendy
take him back when she couldn’t even see him? She’d probably believe it was some
kind of cruel trick.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Not that
he’d blame her.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Ren watched
her swing one way then other trying to find the source of her apparent
confusion. Wishing he could speak her name, knowing he shouldn’t until he had a
face for her to see. Ren spun and bolted into the cold night.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> He’d been a
fool to think the Harvest Moon Ball was the time or place to reclaim her. But
having come this far…he stumbled to a standstill, gasping for air, and glared
angrily back at the mansion.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Suddenly,
just talking to her seemed lame. He needed a better strategy. The pain, or
perhaps anger on her face each time she suspected she’d seen him was unbearable.
Of course every man she secretly stalked wasn’t him. He’d watched from a discreet
distance. Had witnessed the hope, the deep anger that followed, and then the
despair at her repeated mistakes.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> The pain of
her emotions ate into Ren’s very soul. Still, he couldn’t give away his secret.
Not yet. For ten years he’d been torn. Had Tessa’s words been truth or cloaked
with another black lie? Had Wendy truly asked her cousin to curse Ren into
nothingness, leaving him to walk the earth as a ghost?</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Not a ghost,
for even spirits could be seen by those who believed. He was an invisible man
without a ghost of a chance at happiness. He’d only drawn Wendy to Transylvania
to see her one last time before taking his own life, ending both their misery.
She wouldn’t even know he was there, that he’d smelled her lavender scent,
touched her silky hair as she passed by. She would return to America none the wiser,
if not a little less hopeful of ever seeing him again.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Then again,
if Wendy had set him up after that horrible argument Tessa had engineered so
long ago…was she really as miserable as him? He found it hard to accept that
she’d believed he’d ever touch her wicked witch of a cousin. That she could
take Tessa’s word over his.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Unless…</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* * * *</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Another look
around and Wendy decided to scry again. Using magic crystals was the
unobtrusive way to search without being discovered. Perhaps she’d been
mistaken? It wouldn’t be the first time. Magic seemed to have it in for her,
never working right. Well, not “never” since there was that time nine years ago
when she put that wart on Tessa’s nose. That was fun. Her evil cousin still
hadn’t managed to override and remove the growth. It hadn’t taught the witch to
keep her nose out of Wendy’s affairs though.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Accepting another
drink to replace the now-warm first one, she forced a smile as she wended her
way through the raucous crowd. She’d barely avoided a nasty pass from Dracula
and was searching for somewhere quiet to scry. If only the tingling in her
chest would go away.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Strange.
About the time the vicious vampire nuzzled her neck, in the pretense of
smelling her perfume, a sharp pain struck in her chest and spread like fire,
pleasantly warm but slightly uncomfortable. It had finally eased into an
annoying, almost pleasurable sizzle she tried to ignore. Dracula had also moved
on without biting.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Finding a
quiet room to work in, she surveyed the dark corners, making sure she was
alone. A cluster of black candles on a center table was the only light in the
chilly room. Perfect. She reached into the air and retrieved her bag and set it
on a stool. Lying out a silk scarf, she then set travel-size crystal ball in
the center of the white cloth.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> "If he’s near, spare my heart,</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Reveal my love, if he’s far.</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Show me now whom I seek,</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Rengal Fisher, as I speak."</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Instant
thick fog gathered within the crystal. Swirling, dancing before her eyes.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> The mist
seemed confused, clearing here, then there around the inner globe. “Wonderful. Just
dandy.” Of course magic failed her. Nothing new about that. Despair gripped
her.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> At last the
mist parted and cleared to reveal a room. The room she stood in right then.
“Stupid ball. I know where <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> am.” She
lifted the ball and shook it like an etch-a-sketch to clear it, then shoved it
back into her bag and shook the bag. With a toss into the air, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the bag it faded to nothing. Of course inane
magic cooperated. She spun toward the door to return to the party, then stalled.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Before her,
the mist from the crystal ball seemed to have escaped into the room, swirled in
a hazy smoke. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, shook her head and still the
mist drifted.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> With a gasp
she watched as the outline of a man came into shimmering view. “Ren?” She was
barely able to whisper as her throat constricted. The form altered and the mist
dissipated. “That was weird.” And not Ren. “Stupid magic.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “My love.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> The voice
was faint and disembodied, eerie. Fighting off a shiver as the room suddenly
chilled more, she wrenched open the door and slammed it behind her as sounds of
the party consumed her, heat soaking into her. “I have nothing to feel remorse
for. He left. I never should have come here.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> She passed
the wide French doors leading out to a patio as one door swung open and closed
again. No one was there. Maybe it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i>
Cupid. She was a ghost, right? Wendy stared at the door, waiting to see if it
would open again. Minutes passed. Nothing.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Determined
to get out of the mansion as quickly as she could, Wendy searched for the cloak
closet where Igor had stashed her cape. Coming back around to the grand
ballroom she glanced back at the door to see a beautiful dark-haired woman in a
long green gown hurry through. She pulled the door tight but it opened again
only a minute later.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> A tall man
stepped through and met her gaze instantly. Wendy glanced around and back to
him. What there was of him. Wendy saw only a face—most of a face—hidden behind
a black mask.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Dark blue
eyes peered through the mask at her. Familiar eyes. But there was nothing above
or below the mask. No hair, no legs or feet, no hands. No body. And when he
turned fully toward her…no lower part of a face. Where the three-quartered mask
ended, so did he. He was nothing more than a floating mask.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Except for
the hazy mist outlining his invisible body. She trembled as recognition settled
over her with the force of a hammer. He took a first step toward her.</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* * * *</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Several
witches had tried and none could reverse the spell set on him by Tessa. Hope
was a dream. Ren had fought the urge to call to Wendy in that dark room he’d
followed her into. But he’d failed. He’d given in and cried out with his very
heart and she’d heard him.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> She was
searching, calling to him and he shouldn’t have answered. Not until he could be
seen and be able to convince her of his presence, to tell her he’d left in
desperation to save them both. Whether saving them meant staying apart, or proving
they belonged together, he couldn’t be certain. Not until he knew Wendy hadn’t
sent Tessa after him. Ten years and it had been hopeless.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Until he’d
met up with the seer on the balcony, a woman running from demons of her own.
Her soul mate was a wounded man as well. He’d understood Ren’s plight and graciously
offered the magical mask. Ren knew it was working because Wendy stood not ten
feet from him, staring through him…literally. Yet, she recognized him. It was
in her hazel gaze.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Ren?"</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> She
whispered his name and a jolt shot through the short distance to pierce Ren’s
chest like an electric charge. Not that she’d know, but he grabbed his chest
and winced at the shocking pain his name on her lips caused.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Wendy.” He
prayed she hadn’t had a part in her wicked cousin’s deed. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Tell me it was a
lie.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “What?
Are…is it truly you?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “It is. A
good man gave me this magic mask so you could see me.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Why? What
happened? Please tell me. Why did you leave?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Did she
really not know? “Tessa said you’d sent her after me, that you believed we, she
and I…had betrayed you.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy moved
closer and reached a hand out and cupped his face. Life filled him for the
first time in all these years. “I never knew. She did this to you?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “She cursed
me.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “I came here
to get revenge. To make you pay for breaking my heart. Why haven’t you found
someone to undo it and return to me?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Ren wanted
to laugh. Did she actually think he’d gone merrily on with his life? Given up
without a fight? “Five powerful witches couldn’t undo Tessa’s magic.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy
pressed her bow-shaped lips together in the determination he recalled in her
spirit. “Well, I can.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ren smiled.
He remembered her magic. How sweet her confidence in her powers was. Could it
be possible she had finally mastered her wayward magic? “Set me free, my love.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> She nodded
and led Ren back into the dark room. “I came here looking for you not long ago.
I swear I heard your voice. Was it you?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Yes. I was
afraid to reveal myself. I didn’t want to scare you off, so I let you leave.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Now it
makes sense. My calling mist showed you to me, or your outline, but I couldn’t
see you so I thought the magic was misbehaving as usual.” She laughed then. The
sound was magic to his lost soul.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> It had
always been one of the things he’d loved about his little witch. Her ability to
laugh at herself was amazing in a sorceress with her familial background of extreme
powers. “Perhaps you’d like to take your time and say a prayer that something
will work this time? I don’t relish the idea of being a frog for the next ten
years.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Look at the
bright side, Ren. If my magic doesn’t work—at least no one will see you hopping
around.” Wendy grinned with pure wicked mischief and held out her hands.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Not funny, my
favorite little witch.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Her bag
appeared in her hands. It impressed him that one thing had never failed since
she’d learned how to vanish and retrieve the mystical bag from thin air. She
dug in and pulled out a red candle and a batch of sage and lavender. He knew the
routine. Cleanse the room first. She had skipped that step earlier in her
haste. She suddenly seemed nervous and the emotion transferred to him. If she
was worried…</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Okay. Do
you remember any of the words Tessa said that day?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> He’d never
forgotten them. “Poof of proof, go insane Forever aloof, time to wane.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy
arranged the candle on a silk scarf as he spoke and lit it. When he stopped
speaking she turned to face him. “What else?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wasn’t that
enough? “That’s it.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Are you
certain?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Positive.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “She said
‘go insane and time to wane?’”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Yes. Why?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Because…if
I know Tessa,” she grimaced. “And I do all too well, she did nothing more than put
an insanity spell on everyone you come into contact with. What I mean is, you
aren’t invisible. Others just can’t see you.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Isn’t that
the same thing? Wouldn’t I at least be able to see myself?” Her theory didn’t
make sense.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “You’d think
so, but no. Tessa likes to complicate spells. That’s why no one has been able
to undo it. The spell isn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">on</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>, but on everyone including you, that
lays eyes on you. I mean, she just made it impossible for us to see you, but
you’re really here. We…just can’t see you. Oh, Ren, if only you’d come to me
years ago. I know it makes no sense, but I know how to undo what my terrible
cousin has done.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “How?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy smiled,
and his heart surged. “She did it to me one time. After you left. She now
sports a lovely wart on her perfect nose that plastic surgery can’t erase no
matter how many times she has it taken off.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Remind me
not to cross you, my darling. Can we do this now?” The thought of his gentle
Wendy pulling such vindictive magic on her ridiculously vain cousin made Ren realize
what a dangerous foe she could be, and was glad she was on his side.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Absolutely.
Stare into this.” Wendy held out a small object.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> He took the
little square mirror and it faded to nothing. As expected. And he saw nothing,
as expected. He hadn’t seen his reflection in ten years. Wendy laughed as he
set the mirror down so it would reappear on the table. She lifted it to set it
on a statue.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “See if you
can see into it now. Imagine yourself in it and don’t look away. Focus only on seeing
you in there. Oh, are you wearing anything? Other than the mask, I mean.” Wendy
touched the mask and frowned. “This has dark magic in it. I’ll need you to take
it off before I start.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “I was
warned it was bad. But the mask has served its purpose. I’m wearing clothes,
not that we can see them. Once I put anything on it disappears too.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Hmm. That’s
the spell.” Wendy waved the sage around murmuring quietly for a moment. Next she
pointed at the mirror and grabbed the blood red opal hanging around her neck.
“Step into the light as it comes and look in there.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> He obeyed,
moving closer to her as the opal began to lighten in her grasp. The light grew
to encompass them both. He turned his attention to the mirror, unable to ignore
the doubt creeping in after so many failed attempts to heal him of this curse,
but still hopeful.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> The opal
glowed red as light escaped to brighten the room, and he imagined she released
the stone to allow its brilliance to shine. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I
believe in Wendy. No matter what happens, I know she means well.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* * * *</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Wendy put
the sage aside and shut her eyes as she sent a prayer for guidance and
direction to the elements. With a breath of courage she began to recite the
spell Tessa had put on Ren. It figured her cousin would use such a cheesy one
for her dubious doings.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> "Poof of proof, go insane.</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Forever
aloof, time to wane.</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Lapse in time, insanity restored.</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Forever ends, wane no
more.”</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Three times
she chanted the words, not daring to check on Ren. Failure was not an option. Yet,
her magic had let her down so many times she was afraid this would be no
different. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the right words, but they didn’t seem
to go to the right corners of the wind. Or at least that was her reasoning.
Wendy really didn’t know why her spells rarely worked.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> After a slow
count to ten she inhaled deeply. It was now or never. Before she opened her
eyes warm hands touched her shoulders. Then look, she did, and tears welled.
“Oh!” Spinning, she stared into the most beautiful blue eyes. Tears filled and
trickled from them and she reached and touched the moisture on his cheeks.
Cheeks she could see, touch. “It worked. Ren, I see you!”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “I see me
too,” he whispered staring at his hands. “You did it, Wendy.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “I’m so
glad. I love you so much. I’ve missed you.” Wendy didn’t fight the tears on her
face as she smoothed her hands along his rough jaws. It seemed incredible he
was here, in her arms again.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “I’ve never
loved another as I love you. Thank you, my Darling.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Come home
with me.” She had a certain cousin to go see.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Forever.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* * * * </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Thank you for spending
Halloween with the OKRWA Wildokie Writers.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">For information on
joining </span></i><a href="http://okrwa.com/"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">OKRWA</span></i></a><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">, visit our </span></i><a href="http://okrwa.com/"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">website</span></i></a><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">.</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Find out more about Calisa Rhose at these places:</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://calisarhose.com/" target="_blank">Website </a></span>~ <a href="http://calisarhose.com/chit-chat" target="_blank">Blog</a> ~ <a href="https://twitter.com/CalisaRhose" target="_blank">Twitter </a>~ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Calisa-Rhose/197355176978063?ref=hl" target="_blank">Facebook </a>~ <a href="https://pinterest.com/calisarhose/" target="_blank">Pinterest </a>~ <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/Calisa_Rhose" target="_blank">Goodreads </a>~ <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Calisa-Rhose/e/B006ROTWH0" target="_blank">Amazon</a></span></span></span></span></div>
Calisa Rhosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743891437445099016noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-49306294677693375672013-10-29T02:00:00.000-05:002013-10-29T02:00:14.801-05:00Scarred<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">By Alicia Dean</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian Cordell left his dark, empty home and headed deep
into the woods. As usual, he was restless, filled with too many memories and no
longer able to stand his own company. The nighttime suited him. The darkness
and density of the woods helped hide his disfigured face…his evil soul. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Light from a full moon sifted through spidery branches of
the winter trees. In the distance, the howl of a werewolf filtered to him. He’d
learned to recognize the difference between a true wolf and a Lycan. The sound
of a Lycan was much more eerie… more haunted. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Frigid wind bit through his coat, but he welcomed the pain.
Pain made him aware he was still human, that his heinous act from a year ago
today hadn’t rendered him the demon he knew himself to be. The soft ground gave
beneath his feet. Tree limbs whipped against him as he plodded through the
thickets, scratching his exposed flesh. Again, welcome sensations. He was
alive, although he had no right to be. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The sound of music and cheerful voices interrupted his
self-recrimination. He peered between the trees where a faint light shone. As
if he had no control of his own body, his feet took him toward the light…toward
the sound. From the edge of the woods, he stood, staring at Dracula’s mansion.
The vampire was apparently hosting a party tonight. Guests in colorful finery
exited vehicles and made their way up the path to the door. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian was about the step back, to fade into obscurity
when a particular guest caught his attention. His heartbeat sped up, and he
nearly called out her name…but she wasn’t Jessica. She only looked like
his former fiancée. Dark hair framed her pale face, a face that was eerily
similar to Jessica’s. She wore a black cloak and beneath it, the skirt of an emerald green gown floated around her. The woman paused for a moment and
glanced in his direction. He slunk back behind a tree, pulse pounding. Had she
seen him? He didn’t know, but he knew one thing, he had to see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i>. Had to get a closer look at the
woman who resembled the she-devil who destroyed his life.</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie caught her breath and whirled toward the copse of
trees at the edge of the property. Some…force compelled her to turn, though she
hadn’t actually seen or heard anything. Her gaze sought out the source of the
odd feeling. She squinted against the snow that drifted down and nearly
obscured her vision. Nothing. She chuckled and shook her head. Just an
overactive imagination. The search for her missing sister had made Natalie
hyper-sensitive. She’d conjured up a multitude of dire scenarios; Jessica
had been involved in a horrible accident and had amnesia. Or, she’d been
murdered, her body buried so deep, she would never be found. But the idea vying
for first place in Natalie’s dire picture of her sister’s fate; Jessica’s
cheating ways had caught up to her and some enraged, scorned man was keeping
her hostage, torturing her little by little each day until she finally learned
her lesson. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The truth was most likely something much simpler. Jessica,
who had never been exactly loyal to her family, had decided to shut them out.
Her refusal to answer Natalie’s calls and emails was just one of the
self-centered ploys she used to punish her loved ones for some imaginary wrong. Whether
or not Jessica’s disappearance was voluntary, Natalie was determined to get
answers. A year with no contact from her sister was not so unusual, but
something about this time felt…different…unsettling.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Taking a deep breath, Natalie turned away from the woods and
back to the mansion. The home was a three-story monstrosity—she giggled, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">monstrosity</i> was accurate since it
belonged to Dracula, a real live—correction, not so ‘live’—vampire. She’d
learned of the ball when she’d taken the key from the hotel clerk and touched
the man’s hand. He hadn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">told</i> her
about the party, but thanks to her gift-slash-curse, she’d read his thoughts
upon contact with him. A party such as this one was the perfect place to find
her wayward sister. A hand shake here, a drink there, perhaps even a dance or
two would be enough interaction to learn <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">something</i>.
If not, she’d traveled thousands of miles for nothing. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">No...that wasn't going to happen. She refused to believe this trip was fruitless. She
would not leave until she learned Jessica’s fate. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie headed up the walk, casting one last glance over her
shoulder to the woods. A shudder ran through her she couldn’t explain, any more
than she could explain why she felt like she was on the brink of a precipice,
one that would change her life forever.</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Just over an hour later, Sebastian strode to the door of
Dracula’s opulent manor wearing a black tux and pale blue shirt. His strategic
black mask hid the top three quarters of his face. The event was not a costume party,
but he’d be damned if he would show himself—his true self—in public. Which
begged the question, what the hell was he doing here? He had called himself all
kinds of a fool for coming tonight, but no matter how much he’d argued, his
heart had won, and here he was. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When the door opened, Sebastian gave the butler a curt nod,
then strode through the foyer into the ballroom. He scanned the crowd. Igor
moved amongst the guests, holding a tray of champagne. Sebastian was surprised
Dracula allowed the sadly repellent creature to be seen by his guests, but
silently applauded the vampire. Perhaps Dracula saw past a person’s outer self.
Although in Sebastian’s case, the inner self wasn’t any more appealing. He
scowled away the thought</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Weaving through the crowd, he ignored the curious glances
cast at him. He rounded the room twice, but his mystery woman was nowhere to be
seen. Debating whether to leave or give it a few minutes, Sebastian made his
way toward the balcony for badly needed fresh air. He had been a recluse this
past year and being around so many people stole his ability to draw a breath.
He eagerly swept open the balcony doors and stepped out—and saw her. Her
profile faced him. The full moon wrapped her in its glow, her features clearly
defined. Smooth, pale skin and red, kissable lips. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He almost called out Jessica’s name, but stopped himself in
time. He must have made a sound, though, because she turned an alarmed gaze on
him. Her hand flew to her chest, and she gave a self-conscious laugh. “Oh my,
you startled me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her beauty stole his breath as effectively as the crowd had,
and it took a few moments before he could speak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
frighten you.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You didn’t frighten me. I just thought I was alone.” She
gestured to the opaque glass door that separated them from the partygoers. “I
was feeling claustrophobic, so I came out here, relieved to find the balcony empty.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He smiled. “It’s not all that surprising no one else is out
here, considering the temperature is barely above zero.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She laughed again—a dazzling sound that had his knees
threatening to buckle. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her features alit with
delight. She was a sight to behold. He experienced a brief, insane moment of
wishing he could spend the rest of his life making her laugh, putting that glow
on her face. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She did resemble Jessica but not as much as he’d first
thought. She had Jessica’s coloring and her figure—without the cloak, every
perfect curve was revealed—but in her face he saw kindness and intelligence
that had been absent in Jessica. Funny how he just now realized it. He’d been
so blinded by love for his fiancée it had taken seeing this woman—a version of
what Jessica could have been, what he’d thought she was—for him to realize she
hadn’t been worth the trouble. Hadn’t been worth carrying the guilt of murder
around with him all these months.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian took off his coat and stepped toward the woman.
The scent of vanilla and lilacs rose to his nostrils, sending heat rushing
through his blood. He pushed back an urge to step closer, to sweep her up in
his arms, taste those delectable lips. Instead, he draped the coat over her
shoulders. “Here. Do you wish to freeze to death? I’m Sebastian, by the way.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Natalie,” she said, accepting the coat. “Thank you.”
She glanced to the doors. “I suppose I should go back inside.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He bit his tongue to keep from begging her to stay. What in
God’s name was happening?</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In spite of her intent to go inside, Natalie remained rooted
in place. There was something intriguing about this man. She wanted to know why
he wore a mask, who he was, what would it feel like to touch him…</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She shook her head. What an insanely inappropriate direction
her mind had taken. This man was a stranger…a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">masked</i> stranger. She should be afraid…or at least wary. But found
she was neither.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Music is playing.” His voice was deep, raspy. “No sense
letting it go to waste.” He held out a hand. “Perhaps a dance will warm you?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As if her heart tugged her forward, she was powerless to
resist. Something unexpected and magical was taking place, and she had no idea
why or what. But she wanted to explore it, to see what developed, hold onto the
sensation as long as she could.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian took her hand and placed his on the small of her
back. She moved across the snow-dusted balcony in his arms, lost in the strains
of “Johann Strauss’s Blue Danube Waltz,” lost in the dark eyes behind the mask.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He put his lips to her ear. “You feel like Heaven and smell
like a floral garden.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Goosebumps pricked her skin that had nothing to do with the
cold. Her breath stalled in her chest. “Thank you,” she managed through a dry
throat.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He didn’t move away. His face was so close that if she
turned, ever so slightly… Before she could stop herself, her head tilted so
that their eyes met and their lips were almost touching. His hold on her
tightened, his ebony eyes glittered, and then he dipped his head, and his lips
fused to hers with an explosion of desire that had her clinging to his broad
shoulders. His mouth was firm and warm, and she moved closer to him, seeking a
deeper connection, wanting more of this crazy beautiful feeling. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Let me see your face,” she whispered against his mouth.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His muscles tensed beneath her hand and he drew back,
shaking his head. “No, please don’t ask that of me.” His raspy tone took on a
note of desperation. “Let me have this night. I’m certain there will never be
another. I’ll never again feel the way I feel now.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She studied the entreaty in his gaze, then nodded and rested
her head on his chest, listened to his heartbeat. Seconds ticked by in their
wintery cocoon. Natalie was so consumed by the strange and wonderful joy coursing through
her, it took a moment to register what her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gift</i>
was relaying. Then the images assaulted her…Jessica. This man knew Jessica…had
been intimate with her… She felt his rage…felt his blind fury as his hands
closed around the fragile neck…</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With a cry, Natalie wrenched away, backing until she bumped
the balcony railing. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Natalie? What is
it? What’s the matter?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You!” Grief and anger strangled her voice. Her heart
plummeted into her stomach. She nearly went to her knees with the weight of her
sorrow. “You killed her. Oh my God…Jessica.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He’d been heading toward her, but he halted. “How do you know Jessica?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She snorted a humorless laugh. “Because, she’s my sister.”
Agony squeezed her chest. “You monster! You murdered my sister.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You—you’re Jessica’s sister?” He stepped back and shook his
head. “I should have known this was too—” He cut off in mid-sentence and
stared at her, his eyes bleak. “I didn’t kill Jessica. She is very much alive,
but regardless, you have a right to hate me. I am an evil man.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A desire to believe him warred with the knowledge that her
visions had never been wrong. ”What happened to Jessica?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">After a brief hesitation, he said, “We were to be married.
But she fell in love with another man and left me. Left the country.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I don’t believe you.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The corner of his mouth quirked. “Apparently, you do not
know your sister very well.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ignoring his sarcastic—yet accurate—statement, Natalie
lifted her chin. “I’m calling the police.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He gave a wry grin and reached inside the jacket of
his tux, pulling out a cell phone. “Would you like me to dial for you?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Go to hell,” she bit out. She swept past him, trying to
stem the flood of tears. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Just before she reached the door, a surge of anguish—of
someone else’s anguish—washed over her. It was as if she’d touched someone,
although she and Sebastian were the only ones on the terrace. “Who’s there?”
The words trembled out of her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You can see me?” a man’s voice responded.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She looked around. No one. “No, I can feel you. Your pain.
What’s the matter? Who are you?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re…invisible?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Natalie?” Sebastian spoke behind her. “What’s happening?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ignoring Sebastian, she searched the night for the source of
the voice.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A deep, tortured chuckle carried to her. “My name is Rengal
Fisher. I lost the love of my life a decade ago. She’s here tonight. It is our
one last chance to be together. But if she can’t see me, we shall never
connect.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In spite of her own grief, sympathy for this poor soul
gripped her. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help. I can talk to her. Let her know
you’re here.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“No, I’m afraid she still has to be able to see me. She’s a
witch, and she can cast a spell, but in order to do so, she must see me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“What about this coat?” She realized she still wore
Sebastian’s coat and she shrugged it from her shoulders. Sebastian had grown
silent behind her, which suited her fine. “Wear this and she can locate you.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“It doesn’t work that way. There needs to be at least a hint
of magic to the object. Otherwise, it will disappear along with me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Impossible…his plight was impossible. “I wish there was
something I could do.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I realize it’s quite hopeless,” he replied forlornly. “Thank
you for your concern.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With a quick nod, Natalie whispered, “Good luck,” then
rushed through the balcony doors.</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian’s contact with vampires and werewolves had made
him immune to surprise at the existence of the unknown. Apparently, Natalie had
encountered an invisible man. A man badly in need of assistance.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> ”I can help you,” Sebastian said. “I can’t see you,
but I know a way for you to be seen.” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Summoning his courage, Sebastian gripped the edge of his
mask. A gypsy had cursed it after the accident. She’d warned him he’d always
remember his evil deed, always feel the effects of his horrendous act. For the
remainder of his days, the spell she cast on the mask would fill his dreams
with images of the life he’d stolen. It worked exceedingly well. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“This has a touch of magic,” he said, then chuckled. “Not
exactly good magic, but magic is magic, right?” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The thought of parting with his crutch was as torturous
as his dreams. He should have rid himself of the mask long ago, but he deserved
its curse….and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> deserved to be
remembered. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His grip grew clammy. Could he really give up its
protection? There was only one way out, and that was through the ballroom.
People would see his repulsive countenance. But he’d done enough bad in his
life. Perhaps it was time he did something good. He jerked the mask from his
face and extended it outward. “Here, take this, let her find you.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian waited a beat, thankful he couldn’t see the man’s
expression of revulsion. His pulse rate accelerated when the mask was tugged
from his hand, then rose in the air. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank you,” the voice said.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sebastian nodded. “Don’t screw this up. Sometimes one shot
is all we get at love. You were lucky enough to be granted a second chance.” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Inhaling a deep breath, Sebastian stepped into the ballroom.
Ignoring the stares, the gasps, the murmurs, he forged through bodies toward
the exit.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He was unable to draw a full breath until he reached the night air. Was
Natalie part of the crowd? Had she seen him? Was she now more disgusted, or had
she already fled after a glimpse at his hideous soul? It didn’t matter. It was
done. He would never see her again. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sebastian?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His heart hammered. At first, hope soared, but when he
recognized the speaker, the weight of sorrow settled in his gut. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Candi,” he said softly to her ghost. He’d robbed Candace
Cupardé—Cupid—of her life. Since he’d been the one to kill her, he was the only
human who could see her, hear her. And he’d done so daily in his dreams. “I’m
so sorry. If I could switch places with you…”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The blonde pixie shocked him by smiling. “You were hurt,
enraged, not in your right mind.” Her voice lowered. “You’re a good man,
Sebastian. You deserve love.” She lifted her bow and nocked an arrow.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He held up a hand. “No need for that, but thank you. I’ve
fallen deeply and irrevocably in love already. But I am afraid it is hopeless.
She despises me.” He gave a self-deprecating grin. “And that’s without seeing
what I really look like. Can you imagine her horror if she did?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A soft grin touched her pink lips. “If she is worthy of your
love, she won’t be horrified.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Well, I suppose we’ll never know.” He winked. “Thank you,
Candi. And if it’s possible in your…realm…I hope you find the love you deserve.”
He executed a slight bow. “Goodnight.” He turned and strode over the
snow-covered lawn. As much of a prison as his home had become, he couldn’t wait
to be back inside its four walls. Sometimes, a prison was also one’s sanctuary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie pressed against the wall of the alcove and sobbed.
Her sister was dead. How could Natalie be romantically drawn to the man who
murdered her? Now she must find Jessica’s body so she could take her home to
her final resting place. But that fiend wouldn’t admit to his crime, so how was
she to prove it? Tell the police she ‘sensed’ he’d committed murder? They would
laugh her out of the country.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie stopped, sucked in several breaths to calm herself.
She needed to think. Sebastian claimed Jessica ran off with another man. Could
that be true? Knowing Jessica as she did, it was a definite possibility.
Natalie should have kept her touch on him a moment longer, rather than
panicking. She should have looked at the full picture. He’d admitted to
something horrible, but maybe his crime was not killing her sister…</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Without warning, a jolt pinged her chest. A delicious ache,
an undeniable, uncontrollable urge to find Sebastian enveloped her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie rushed to the front door and jerked it open.
Dracula’s party lights illuminated the large yard. She peered through the
falling snow and spotted Sebastian, striding across the lawn toward the woods.
She lifted her skirts and flew down the steps. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mindless of the deepening snow, she reached him and latched
onto his arm. “Sebastian!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He stopped but didn’t face her. She kept hold of him, and
images once more assailed her. This time, she saw a blond, angelic female,
adorned with wings and a bow shaped like a heart. Her throat was captured in
Sebastian’s large hands. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A stone of sadness settled in Natalie’s stomach. “Cupid? You
killed Cupid.” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Without turning, he said, “How did you find out?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have a—gift. I see pictures, sense things when I touch
someone.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He inclined his head forward. “Then you know how evil I am.
Release my arm and leave me be. You’ll never have to see me again.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Look at me, Sebastian.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He whirled to face her, and she gasped as the depth of his
pain seared her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His dark eyes blazed with anguish. “Perhaps your vision did
not give you the entire story. Let me fill in the blanks. Cupid’s arrow pierced
Jessica’s heart. My fiancée fell in love with another man.” A grim smile
touched his firm lips. “Although Jessica likely would have done the same
without Cupid’s help, I was out of my mind with pain, I acted without thought.
I killed Candi…choked the life from her.” Tears strangled his voice. “Once I
realized what I’d done, I was tormented by grief and guilt. I jumped into my
car and sped away, over icy roads towards the cliff. My car plunged over.
Unfortunately, it didn’t kill me. Instead, it made me what I am now.” He barked
a sardonic laugh. “Although I am aware I deserve much, much worse.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sympathy and…love?...washed through her. His suffering
tugged at her soul. “Everyone does things they’re not proud of. I know you’re
sorry for what you did.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His jaw clenched. “That doesn’t exactly erase it, though,
does it?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her gaze roamed his face. Jagged white scars ran from the
corner of his right eye, over his cheek bone to his jaw line. Puckered pink scars marred the flesh
on his forehead. The left side of his face was oddly untouched…perfectly
handsome. “What happened to your mask?” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He turned away. “Don’t look at me.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She moved around to face him. ”Tell me what happened
to your mask.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He let out a heavy breath. “I…lost it.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Natalie gripped his arm. He tugged but she didn’t let go.
Her mind flooded with images of his encounter on the balcony after she left. “No,
you didn’t lose it. You gave it to Rengal so his true love could find him.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“So.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She released him and lifted her chin. “Your face is not
nearly as scarred as your soul. You need to forgive yourself. To find
happiness…love.” </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is that so?” A bitter laugh burst from him. He took hold of
her shoulders and yanked her close to him, close to his damaged face. His dark
eyes were tormented, his voice hoarse. “What if I told you that I love
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>? That the only way I can
find happiness is in your arms? Preposterous, right? Someone as hideous as I with a
beauty like you? So do me, and yourself, a favor. Just let me be.” He
shoved her away and turned, but she grabbed his arm and tugged him back, making
him look at her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She slid her fingers over the scarred side of his face. He
flinched beneath her touch but didn’t pull away. “You’re beautiful,” she
whispered. “And, I know it sounds crazy, since I met you no more than an hour ago, but I love you, too.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He frowned at her for a moment, his disbelief apparent. Then
a smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and he shook his head. “How could
someone like you ever love someone like me?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: ""serif"","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">She
gave him a saucy grin. “I’m just lucky I guess.”</span></div>
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on me, visit my website at: AliciaDean.com</span></span></span></span></b></span><span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b> </b></span><b>You can follow me
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>Alicia Deanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12003539473772776004noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-20181740944343131242013-10-28T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-28T09:46:29.799-05:00Under My Skin<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
by Tamrie Foxtail</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Selkie: a creature which
takes the form of a seal in water, but can assume a human form on land by shedding
its pelt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya’s first glimpse of
Ryan Grace sent her spinning through time. He had his father’s tall lean build
and the same dark blond hair.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan crouched, aiming a
camera at the castle. While his attention was occupied Mya clung to the
shadows, moving closer to the offspring of the man who had slaughtered her
husband before her eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan focused on the
castle. The full moon and wisps of fog made for a perfect shot. He could use it
for the cover of his upcoming book about Dracula.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The hair on the back of
his neck began to rise. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder and nearly
jumped out of his skin at the sight of the woman stepping from the shadows.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He might have thought she
was one of the guests for whatever was going on in the castle, had her clothes not
been so simple. While the women he’d watched going into the party had been
dressed to the hilt, this young woman wore jeans and a long sleeved blouse with
a scoop neck.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan stood slowly, not
wanting to scare her off. There was something about her that made him think of
a wild animal—curious,
but ready to flee at any moment.</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m Ryan Grace,” he said
gently, letting the soft, southern accent coat his words.</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_2" id="_anchor_2" name="_msoanchor_2"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I know who you are.” The
young woman stood on the rocks, just a few feet away, legs braced for balance,
hands at her side.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The moonlight washed the
color from her skin, hair and clothes, casting her in black and white. Even so
she was lovely, with high cheekbones, big eyes and a mouth nature meant for
kissing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You have the advantage,”
he said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The woman took a step
forward. “My name is Mya. My father was a king and yours was a murderer.”</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_3" id="_anchor_3" name="_msoanchor_3"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“A what?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“He killed my husband.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He shook his head slowly.
His father had been selfish and mean as hell, but a murderer?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan motioned toward the
castle. “Let me guess, your father was the king of Transylvania?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She took a step closer,
long dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. “Don’t mock me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He had to admit she had
the regal air down pat. He stood his ground.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“My father has been dead
for nearly twenty years. You’re what? Twenty? So unless you were married as an infant you
need to start looking for another villain.”</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_4" id="_anchor_4" name="_msoanchor_4"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Something howled at the
moon. The woman whirled at the sound, a move that cost her balance. Her arms
pin wheeled for a moment in a desperate attempt to maintain her footing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan lunged forward,
making a grab for her. His fingertips brushed the soft material of her sweater.
Before he could grab hold she fell, her head striking the rocks below.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He scrambled down the
jagged rocks and crouched next to the woman. His fingers found the pulse in her
neck. Strong and steady. He ran his hand over her arms and legs. No bones
sticking out, no puddle of blood. He stroked his palm over the back of her
head. His fingers came away sticky with blood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan was thirty and in
good shaped, but lifting an unconscious woman while crouched on uneven rocks
was no easy task. He nearly lost his own balance, recovering just in time to
avoid tumbling them both down the side of the cliff.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He carried her back up
the rocks, to where the earth was solid beneath his feet. After a quick glance
in the direction of his car, parked nearly half a mile down the road, he turned
toward the castle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan shifted the woman in
his arms. Before he could reach for the ancient brass knocker the heavy door
swung open.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Welcome.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man stepped back,
motioning for Ryan to enter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He stepped into the
castle. The door swung closed behind him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Follow me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Somewhat bemused, Ryan
fell into step behind him, catching sight of several men and women in the
background.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man led the way up a
wide stone staircase, coming to a stop in front of an open door. He again
motioned for Ryan to proceed him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan carried the woman to
the bed, setting her down gently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up
close, and in the light, she was a little older than he’d thought, twenty-three
or twenty-four, perhaps.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Her skin was pale and
smooth, like porcelain. He watched the rise and fall of her chest. She seemed
to be breathing normally.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I need to call--” He
looked around. “Where the hell’d he go?” He stepped into the hall, nearly
running into the servant who now carried a bowl of water and a cloth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Here. There are clothes
in the wardrobe. You and the lady may make yourselves at home. My name is Igor.
Call if you need me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan watched him walk away
then turned back to the woman on the bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Darlin’ I got a feeling
we’re not in Kansas anymore.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya opened her eyes. For
just an instant she was back in Scotland, in a cottage on the shore, with
Thomas Grace bending over her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You’re beautiful,” he said. “And now you’re mine. I’ve hidden your pelt
where you’ll never find it.”</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She shook the memory
away, sitting up slowly, relieved when the room didn’t move.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“How do you feel?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">His voice was deeper than
his father’s. The sound of it sent tiny shivers dancing along her spine. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He stood next to the bed,
arms folded across his chest, jaw set. Up close, the resemblance to his father
was not as strong. Ryan’s features were less refined, his eyes dark blue
instead of pale gray.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He canted his head to one
side. “That was a hell of an accusation. Since my father’s been dead for almost
twenty years, you obviously have your facts skewered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unless you were married at the age of two.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">With her pelt gone the
aging process had slowed. A human might think that was a good thing. A selkie
knew it was torture.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was married on my fifteenth birthday,” she
said. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He raised one eyebrow. “A
child bride?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“My father chose my
husband.” It was the way of the selkies. A female had no say in her mate. They
were married young so they could begin having children. Few of the children
would survive to adulthood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya swung her feet over
the bed, a move that had her head drumming and the room spinning. Ryan crouched
in front of her, hands resting on her knees.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You all right?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I think so,” she
whispered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You have a knot on the
back of your head, not to mention a hell of a gash.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Her fingers went
automatically to the tender lump on the back of her head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Did you carry me?” she
asked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He nodded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Then it’s my blood on
your clothes?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan looked down at the
gray sweatshirt he wore, plucking it away from his chest. A smear of blood had
dried on the front of the shirt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah. I’m afraid your
clothes are in bad shape as well. Igor said there were clothes in the armoire
and we could help ourselves.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She looked down at the
rust colored sweater she wore. It didn’t seem to be in bad shape, a snag on the
wrist, but no other damage.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">As if he read her mind,
Ryan leaned over her. His finger traced a path from her shoulder halfway down
her back. “There’s a huge tear in your sweater, not to mention blood stains.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He straightened, walked
to the armoire and opened the door. After a moment he pulled out a dark green
dress. “I’m guessing this would look good on you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are there any jeans?”
There was a two-inch tear in the knee of her jeans.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Nope. There’s a tux, but
I think it might be a little big on you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Hand me the dress.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He handed it to her with
a mocking smile. “Your servant, milady. You did say your father was a king?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“That’s right. What are
you doing?” She held the dress to her chest as Ryan peeled off his bloody
sweatshirt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Don’t worry. I’m not
after your body.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She drew in a breath,
held it. Ryan Grace had the torso of a Greek statue, every muscle defined. His
chest was lightly
furred </span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_5" id="_anchor_5" name="_msoanchor_5"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">with a slender line of hair
disappearing beneath the waistband</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_6" id="_anchor_6" name="_msoanchor_6"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> of his jeans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He pulled on the dark blue
shirt</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_7" id="_anchor_7" name="_msoanchor_7"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">, buttoned it and tucked it into his
jeans.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Do you want me to step
out?” he asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She nodded. “Maybe you
can find me a couple of aspirin.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He bowed. “Of course,
your highness.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I told you not to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mock</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_8" id="_anchor_8" name="_msoanchor_8"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan knocked on the door
before entering, although he didn’t wait for her permission.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">At the sight of Mya
standing in front of the antique floor length mirror, an appreciative whistle
sprang from his lips. The dress could have been made just for her. The dark green
crushed velvet fit her torso like a second skin, hugging her tiny waist and
flaring hips before falling in loose folds to the floor. The scoop neck bodice
was high enough to preserve her modesty, barely, yet low enough to make a man’s
mouth water at the swell of flesh rising above the unadorned neckline.</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_9" id="_anchor_9" name="_msoanchor_9"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Her hair had been set
free and it now twisted and tumbled down her back like a dark brown cloak. Her
eyes, liquid soft and black as a moonless night, met his in the mirror.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’re beautiful,” he
said, surprising himself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Her eyes swept over him.
“You look like your father,” she said, “but not as much as I first thought.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan tried to think where
she might have seen pictures of his father. Thomas Grace had been an artist,
though not well known. He’d spend the summers off from his teaching job
travelling and painting. The last place he’d painted had been in Scotland. He’d
caught some kind of fever and died alone in a cottage by the sea when Ryan was
eleven. His first emotion had been relief that the abusive bastard was gone,
he’d never lay another hand on his wife and son. Ryan’s second emotion had been
guilt over the first.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m nothing like my
father,” he said in his own defense.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Her calm, dark eyes
studied him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“How old are you?” he
asked, determined to point out that his father had died when she was a baby,
therefore he couldn’t have murdered her husband.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She tipped her head to
one side, her full lips shifting into a hint of a smile. “I thought humans
considered it impolite to ask a female her age.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You said you married at
fifteen. My father’s been dead for nineteen years. That means you would have to
be at least thirty four in order for my father to have murdered your
husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d say you’re quite a bit
short of that.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She shook her head
slowly, never taking her eyes from his.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’re thirty four?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Thirty six.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Bullshit.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya gestured to the
bloody clothes on the floor. “You saw the gash on the back of my head?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, and the one on your
shoulder as well. I cleaned them both.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She turned her back to
him, lifting that gorgeous tumble of hair. “Look.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh, he was looking. The
back of the dress was cut deep, revealing plenty of smooth, pale skin. And
there was the fact that the material clung to her hips and derriere. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m looking,” he
whispered, clearing his throat when the words came out rough and low.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya looked at him over
her shoulder.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I meant, look at the
injury to my shoulder.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He stepped closer. His
thumb brushed her skin, just above the dress.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“May I?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“You may.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He edged the dark green
material down, reveal the smooth</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_10" id="_anchor_10" name="_msoanchor_10"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> skin beneath. That was impossible. There had been a shallow gash nearly
two inches long. He’d washed the blood away himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya set her hair loose.
It cascaded to her hips. “Check my head.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">His fingered sifted
through her hair. No gash. No bump. Nothing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“That doesn’t make
sense.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She turned to face him,
one hand rested against his chest. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“It makes perfect sense.
For a selkie.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She watched the emotions
shift across his face: Anger, bewilderment, even fear, then circle back to
anger again</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Selkies are just stories
told to amuse children.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She held her arms out to
the sides. “And yet, here I am.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you going to change
back into a seal?” Sarcasm dripped from his words.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya took a step forward,
put her hands on her hips, tilted her head back and glared at him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I would love to. There’s
just one problem.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“And what would that be?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Your father stole my
skin nineteen years ago. The same night he murdered my husband.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Deep creases ran across
Ryan’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>forehead. “My father was an
anthropology professor who spent his summers painting. Why would he…” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She saw the pain in his
eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes,” she whispered. She
closed her eyes, seeing the bleak coast line, the gray seas. She had married
the man her father chose for her. They weren’t in love, but then Selkies rarely
married for love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lived in small,
isolated herds and marriages were made to unite one herd with another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She honored her father’s choice and
that fateful day, nearly two decades ago, she followed her husband to an
isolated spot on the coast, shed her skin and joined him in swimming the way
humans swam. Afterwards they made love in human form. They stretched out
side-by-side, not quite touching, half dozing beneath the late summer sky,
their skins just a few feet away.</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_11" id="_anchor_11" name="_msoanchor_11"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Arua was lying on his stomach. He was the first one to react
to the soft click. Rolling over, climbing to his feet in a heartbeat, Arua
grabbed a piece of driftwood, holding it like a club.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Mya, behind me.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She moved behind her husband, leaning to the side to better
watch the human male.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man held an object up. “I’m a painter. I’m just here to
take a few pictures of the coastline for inspiration.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya felt the tension coming off Arua. It struck her like the
waves striking the shore.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“My wife and I are not part of the coastline.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man smiled, a soft, charming smile than probably put
humans at ease. It did nothing of the sort for Mya.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Give me the picture box,” Arua ordered.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man shook his head and took a step back.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Arua advanced, hand extended to rip the box from the human’s
hand if need be.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The human came to a sudden stop, blocked by a large, jagged
rock that reached to his shoulders.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Give me the picture box,” Arua repeated.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man shook his head, sliding the picture box into the
pocket of the covering he wore.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Arua lunged forward. The man let out a cry of fear. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">A sudden crack, loud as thunder, shook the air.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Arua dropped to his knees, the movement taking place slowly.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man stood there, something other than the picture box now
held in his hand. The skin on his face turned white. His eyes were wild and his
hands shook.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I didn’t…he came at me and…”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She rushed to her husband, cradling him in her arms. His
hands were pressed to his chest, crimson blood welling between his fingers.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Pelt,” he whispered, his skin shivering, rippling, bones
remolding themselves as his body used the last bit of Arua’s strength, the last
of his energy, to return to his native form.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya lowered him to the sand, sprinting back to where their
skins lay. She snatched his, ran back to him and spread his pelt over him. It
fused to his half shifted form.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Kneeling in the sand, Mya stroked her husband’s shoulder
while the final shudders racked his body. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Selkies.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Intent on returning Arua to seal form, Mya had forgotten
about the man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned her attention
to him now. Gaining her feet slowly, she turned and gasped. He held her pelt in
his hand.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man’s gaze shifted back and forth between Mya and Arua, now lifeless
on the sand in seal form.</span></i><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_12" id="_anchor_12" name="_msoanchor_12"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“I never thought such creatures existed,” he said, fear and
shock now replaced with awe. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya held out her hand. “Give me my pelt.” She had to return
to her seal form and carry word of her husband’s slaughter to her father, and
to Arua’s father.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The man shook his head. “I know the stories. As long as I
have your pelt you belong to me.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Everything she said was
true. Ryan felt it in his heart, in his soul. His father had killed her
husband, though from what Mya said he believed his father thought he was acting
in self-defense at the time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“He kept your…pelt.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She nodded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Did he…”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Rape me?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan nodded. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">She shook her head
slowly, the silky cloak of her hair shifting against her shoulders.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“He forced me to go with
him, back to a cottage. He put my pelt in a trunk and locked it. I thought I
would be able to get to it, even if it meant I would have to endure what he
planned for me, then kill him as he slept.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“What happened?” Ryan
asked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">A wispy figure appeared
behind Mya. Ryan had the impression the figure lifted something and pointed it
at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sharp sting, gone almost
instantly, struck his shoulder. He clamped his hand over it, but the pain was
already gone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you all right?” Mya
asked, her voice gentle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He nodded. He understood
why his father had been so enamored with her he’d locked her pelt up to keep
her with him. Not that it excused what his father had planned for her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He looked past her. The
wispy thing was gone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“What happened?” he asked
again, trying to concentrate on what she had to say, difficult when all he
could think about was how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to kiss her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya folded her arms
across her chest, hugging herself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“He tied me up and put a
piece of cloth in my mouth to silence me, then he put me in the bedroom and
closed the door. Two men came. I heard their voices.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“Sometime later your
father came in and told me that he was leaving Scotland the next day. Two men
had just picked up a trunk of his things and would be sending it back to
America. My pelt was in the trunk and if I had any hope of retrieving it I
would have to go with him to America.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“How did he plan to
accomplish that? Even nineteen years ago it would have taken some effort to get
a passport. For that matter, how had he planned on explaining you to my mother?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He
wasn’t thinking clearly. When he untied me, his skin was dry and hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tried to…force me…but his strength was
already affected. Unlike the first hours after Arua’s murder, I was no longer
in shock. I put up a fight. That night when his fever raged, I fled the
cottage.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He
died,” Ryan said. “All alone in that cottage. My mother had his body flown
home. We buried him. She helped me carry that trunk up to the attic. My mother
just assumed it was his painting supplies. She never even looked inside it</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_13" id="_anchor_13" name="_msoanchor_13"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mya
stepped close, her lovely cheeks flushed with excitement. Her hands wrapped
around his upper arms, the contact sending tiny zings of excitement though his
flesh.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is
it still there?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
think so. My mother still lives in that house. I don’t think she’s cleaned out
the attic.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Will
you take me there?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pain
tore through his heart. Take her to her pelt? Watch her turn into a seal and
dive into the water, never to be seen again, taking his heart with her?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
heart?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
could he let her go?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’ve
been human all this time,” he said. “Do you really want to become a seal
again?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Being
separated for our skin is torture for a selkie,” she whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s fine as long as our skins are close by,
but distance makes our human skin feel like someone is rubbing sandpaper across
it. The greater the distance, the worse the pain.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
wanted to touch her, comfort her, but would that make the pain worse for her?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ryan
hesitated a moment, then pulled his cell from his pocket.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
are you doing?” she asked, a slight frown marring her pretty brow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
the afternoon in Charleston.” He hit his mother’s number. Keeping his eyes on
hers, he counted the rings, his heart growing heavier with each one.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hi,
sweetheart,” his mother said. “Did you get some pictures for your book?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes.”
Without thought he reached for Mya, she came into his arms as if she’d always
belonged there, resting her head against his chest.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ryan?
Are you still there?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes,
Ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “I need to ask you something. When Dad died
there was a chest sent from Scotland.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
know the one you mean,” she said. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is
it still in the attic?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Of
course,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve been storing stuff in the attic for
twenty-eight years. I’ve yet to take anything out.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Could
you look for something?” The words were bits of broken glass in his mouth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Have
you seen the attic?” his mother asked. “Everything’s pushed together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re wanting something from that old
trunk I’m afraid it’ll have to wait until you’re back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would take days, if not weeks, to drag out
everything that’s in front of it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
told his mother goodbye, then kissed the top of Mya’s head. “I’ll find it for
you,” he whispered. “I’ll send it to you. I promise. Even if it means I’ll
never see you again. I can’t bear the thought of you in pain.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
pulled back slightly, enough to look into his eyes. Her warm fingers stroked
his cheek.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
could come with you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
made perfect sense. She’d be close to her pelt, and therefore no longer in
pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
haven’t seen my mother’s attic,” he warned. “It could take weeks to find that old
trunk. You’d need a place to stay.”</span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395#_msocom_14" id="_anchor_14" name="_msoanchor_14"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
corners of her mouth lifted. “Do you have a spare room?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
touched his forehead to hers. “No, but I have a queen-size bed and I don’t mind
sharing.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mya
walked beside Ryan, his hand pressed against the small of her back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a day or two she’d be close to her pelt
and the constant pain would be a thing of the past. For the first time in
nearly two decades, the burning desire to put on the pelt was gone. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
had grown accustomed to walking on two legs and living as a human. Perhaps it
was time she learned to love as a human.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
looked up at Ryan Grace, no longer seeing a resemblance to his father. Instead,
she saw the man her heart told her would calm the longing in her soul.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do
you want to stay for the party?” Ryan asked, motioning to the couples dancing
across the floor.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mya
wondered if he’d realized she wasn’t the only not-quite-human in the castle
tonight. If he hadn’t, he would soon enough. She had faith in his ability to
handle it, after all, he’d accepted her being a selkie without too much
trouble.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Should
she tell him that the children of a female selkie were always selkies as well?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
took her in his arms, the music folding around them.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Mya smiled. She had a
feeling Ryan would learn about the children of selkies first hand<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" id="_anchor_15" name="_msoanchor_15"></a>.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">
</span></span> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for spending
Halloween with the OKRWA Wildokie Writers.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For information on
joining </span></i><a href="http://okrwa.com/"><i><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">OKRWA</span></i></a><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, visit our </span></i><a href="http://okrwa.com/"><i><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">website</span></i></a><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13637861455356412650noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-75738665672272622362013-10-25T17:45:00.000-05:002013-10-25T10:42:23.030-05:00<div align="center">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Chiller; font-size: 36pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This Halloween . . . </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxF3Dun3myN0x0CsHKT45rLT0t8bkpIRGqY7B9E6T-Gy3noOwXuKdO_UtTbRXJMqiQRVboouQP15VZG8Bur8T4dOX2zljNNpcniv9B1z-5D-XBkgHJur132TdOkqNCKh1kXhfoVFUHrKy/s1600/bigstock-Castle-32791004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxF3Dun3myN0x0CsHKT45rLT0t8bkpIRGqY7B9E6T-Gy3noOwXuKdO_UtTbRXJMqiQRVboouQP15VZG8Bur8T4dOX2zljNNpcniv9B1z-5D-XBkgHJur132TdOkqNCKh1kXhfoVFUHrKy/s200/bigstock-Castle-32791004.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As the wind moaned and
dark clouds passed over a silver moon, bats covered a leaden sky. Soon the
hills of Romania would come alive for festivities long overdue. In the
neighborhood of a century it had been since Transylvania has hosted. Dracula
rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Igor, ready the rooms. In addition
to our regular visitors this year, Madame Mirela assures me our humble abode
shall soon overflow with new blood to feast upon.” Dracula retracted his fangs
and whipped about, his great coat stirring the candles. He descended the stairs
to the cellar where no light from the soon to be rising sun could violate his
most inner sanctum. Somewhere in the distant night, a wolf howled. They were
but twelve hours from the appointed fete. Twelve hours from his lifelong dream.
. .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-54121436162340574252013-09-06T20:28:00.000-05:002013-09-06T20:58:38.704-05:00Summer Musings<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCWRDA-toMep-kMYW4YmdOqkwcMFJlS1xgTeFWjJGo0-yAh8KiRp3217hS0eO-qn2LCPHlv061qi6rEM6Q5LbN7mBq748BXb79zW6VADxCjkBvhQal0ARbpjBVHhu0G0lzHitoM9qpVPD/s1600/MP900442278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCWRDA-toMep-kMYW4YmdOqkwcMFJlS1xgTeFWjJGo0-yAh8KiRp3217hS0eO-qn2LCPHlv061qi6rEM6Q5LbN7mBq748BXb79zW6VADxCjkBvhQal0ARbpjBVHhu0G0lzHitoM9qpVPD/s320/MP900442278.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The Wild Okie Authors have been busy all summer
along penning new and exciting stories for their readers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t fear, they will return soon with
another series soon.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">In the meantime...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">With Christmas only 2.5 months away, lets all get in the holiday spirit with a great historical seasonal story! Follow
the “Blog Archive” and see what’s happening at the home of <span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.wildokies.blogspot.com/2012/12/pemberly-hall-england-1814.html" target="_blank">The Duke and Duchess of Pemberton</a> during their annual
Christmas ball last holiday season.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
</div>
Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-67242466020789054752013-05-27T01:00:00.000-05:002013-05-27T01:00:09.215-05:00Operation Dad<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Operation Dad<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Heidi Vanlandingham<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mama? Mama, can I stand up now? Can I?” Aiden
Nelson begged, hopping back and forth on his feet in his eagerness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra Nelson glanced down at her seven-year-old’s
excited face and gave him a small smile in return. “Go ahead, sweetie. I don’t
think the soldiers will mind if you stand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His large hazel eyes widened. “Can I salute too?
Like Uncle Bobby taught me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A knot formed in her constricted throat and all she
could do was nod. He was so like her older brother. He walked forward and
stopped at the end of the front row. His dark blond hair was just now growing
out from the military cut he’d gotten in preparation for Bobby’s homecoming. It
had been a month since the military had informed them of Bobby’s death. She had
cried for a week then said her goodbye. The passing of each day made the hurt
fade, but she would always miss her big brother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A movement caught her eye and she glanced toward her
sister-in-law Becky as she walked toward the black mahogany casket. She raised
the white rose Aiden had given her when they’d arrived at Arlington and held it
against her dusty pink lips, the outline of her kiss tattooed on the rose’s
petal. With one hand pressed against the small baby bump at her stomach, she
laid the gift on the casket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra stared out across the field of white
crosses, her gaze drawn to the hazy figure of a lone soldier standing at
attention beside the cemetery’s metal park bench, his gray uniform
sharp-looking with the many medals hanging on his breast. She moved away from
the small group of family and friends, slowly walking toward the bench, and sat
beside the soldier’s statuesque pose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m glad you came. He would’ve wanted you here,”
she whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The soldier dropped his hand and relaxed, focusing
his quiet stare on her. She looked into his sad gaze and allowed her tears to
fall. He raised his hand and placed it over his heart then bowed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I know. We will all miss him. Thank you, General.”
She watched him glide across the field toward the back central section of the
park. Halfway across, he faded from view. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra refocused on her son. He stood straight and
tall with one hand pressed against his forehead in honor of his fallen uncle
while one of the soldiers knelt in front of Becky and presented her with the
carefully folded casket flag. The early morning sun shimmered over his blond
curls. Her angel. Her strength. Aiden was too young to understand what this was
all about. That his uncle was never coming home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">One month later…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark Sutherland stood at the lawn’s edge and studied
the magnificence of Washington D.C. He was glad he’d decided to visit Arlington
first thing this morning instead of later in the day. During the afternoon, the
hazy city smog would obscure the breathtaking panoramic view of the Mall. He
would also be peeling off his uniform from the sticky humidity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“The first tour starts in five minutes. Please
gather in the front room and we will begin. Thank you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark turned to see several tourists already waiting
inside the Arlington House’s small foyer. The greeter was an older gentleman
dressed in slightly rumpled khaki slacks, kneeling on the cement porch picking
up a handful of visitor pamphlets scattered around him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He’d almost made it to the bottom porch step when a
young boy scurried around him and up the steps toward the gentleman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wait, Mr. Olsen! I’ll help you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Aiden! Honey, slow down. You almost ran over this
gentleman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark forced his hand to relax the death grip he had
on the ionic-styled column supporting the portico for a more casual grasp and
tested his balance. Even after eight months of rehabilitation, his leg was
still weak and tended to collapse under his full weight if he didn’t
concentrate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I am so sorry! Aiden is sometimes too helpful.
We’ve been working on the bull-in-the-china-shop thing.” The child’s mom
shrugged. “It’s a process.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The woman’s soft husky voice sent a pleasant chill
down his spine. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from her beautiful face, even if
he’d wanted to. Her face belonged in his dreams. With her dark
cappuccino-colored hair styled in a short bob, she bore a striking resemblance
to his favorite actress, Kate Beckinsale. With the added bonus of a pale
dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She gently rested her hand against his arm, her dark
eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. “Sir? Are you okay? Aiden didn’t hurt
you, did he?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark gave himself a mental shake, realizing he’d
been staring. One corner of his mouth rose in a grin. “No, ma’am, he didn’t
hurt me and yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” With a quick sideways flip of his head,
he motioned toward Aiden who was now trying to help Mr. Olsen to a wobbly
stand. “Helpful in any form is always good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She raised one eyebrow, her lips pushed to one side
of her face. He could see the doubt in her eyes and knew she questioned whether
he was being truthful or simply had no clue about kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Before she could voice her doubts, Aiden’s excited
voice interrupted. “Mama? Are you going to stand there all day or come inside?
Mr. Olsen said the last earthquake made more cracks. Come on! We gotta see the
cracks!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra turned to her impatient son, who in his
anxiousness was bouncing from one foot to the other. “Go ahead.” She chuckled
as he turned and rushed through the front door. “But wait for me under the
crack above the front stairwell!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Awww, Mom!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She chuckled again. “Aiden?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">From somewhere inside, they heard his dramatic sigh
as it traveled clearly back out to them. “Fine—I will. But you gotta hurry,
'kay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark waved a hand toward a beaming Mr. Olsen. “After
you, ma’am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She scurried up the steps, her breathy response
skipping back to him, “Thanks! And it’s Chandra. Chandra Nelson—not ma’am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He followed a bit slower, forcing his stiff leg to
bend and lift. The limp more obvious than he liked, but he found himself
relaxing as he followed her inside. Stepping into the foyer of Arlington House
was like stepping back in time. The house was small but open, allowing for the
cool breeze coasting inland from the Potomac. On his right, a closed-off
staircase wound upward to the second floor. Ahead of him and to the left two
doorways opened to other parts of the house. The threadbare, handwoven rug
underfoot looked as if it had welcomed thousands of visitors to the house—and probably
had. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra loved this house—loved the cemetery.
Arlington had been her and Bobby’s playground. She’d been coming here since she
was Aiden’s age, but after Bobby’s funeral, she’d been worried that would
change. Instead, everything felt right. Her brother was here with her—as he’d
always been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She watched Aiden reverently moving about the
office, stopping at each artifact as if he was seeing it for the first time
instead of the thousandth. Then, in a blink, he turned back into a
seven-year-old and ran head first into the soldier. Again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Aiden! Seriously? Watch where you are going!” She
pulled her son from the man’s white-knuckled grip. “I am so, so sorry.” She
frowned at his pale, pinched expression. “Okay, this time he did hurt you.” She
squeezed her son’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes and pinching her lips together
in a straight line then threw a look toward Mark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">On cue, Aiden sighed. “I’m sorry, sir. I promise not
to do it again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark nodded, a tight grimace on his face as if he
wanted to scream instead of reassure a seven-year-old. “That’s okay. Accidents
happen.” He turned his gaze to Chandra. “Mark. Mark Sutherland. If we are going
to keep running into each other, then names would probably come in handy.” He
took a deep breath and offered her a smile. “Less awkward that way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra smiled in return. “Thank you. Not too many
people appreciate an energetic child.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I bet. I have four brothers who all have kids. A
grand total of sixteen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That’s a lot of kids.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He turned sideways in the doorway to let her
through. That small movement afforded her a brief glimpse of pain as it crossed
his face and she hoped the cause wasn’t due to her son’s zest for movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Glancing around for Aiden, she saw him trailing
after the tour group, which thankfully was led by a retired teacher who would
have no problems keeping him entertained—at least for the next twenty minutes
or so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It also gave her a chance to get another look at Mr.
Mark Sutherland. He didn’t look much older than she. His tousled blond hair was
a long military cut as if growing out. And there was an adorable cowlick that
fell across his forehead. His pale green eyes were mesmerizing and unusual.
Even without his pressed uniform, his walk and strong physique told her he was
a soldier. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I know a great place to just sit and enjoy a nice
cool breeze. Seats are fairly comfy too. Would you like to join me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He nodded, relief plainly visible on his still
too-pale face. “Lead the way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She led him through the house and into the back
garden. The moment he hit the gravel walkway, his stride slowed and his limp
grew more pronounced. Not knowing what else to do, she slowed to a turtle’s
crawl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">They wound the short distance through the partly
shaded garden, finally turning off the regular path and stepping into a small
oasis bursting with color. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He walked toward the small patio area and sat in one
of the rattan chairs and glanced around. “It is magnificent back here. I would
never have found it on my own.” He drew in a deep breath and then another.
“What is that smell? It’s wonderful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She smiled and glanced up. “That would be the
Magnolia tree we’re sitting under.” She was relieved to see his color returning
to a more natural shade instead of the pasty white he’d sported inside. His
tight, pinched look had also disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Chandra girl! I thought I heard your sweet voice.
Where’s that lively son of yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Chandra chuckled. “Hi Miss Emily. Aiden’s helping
with a tour.” She held out her palm toward Mark. “Mark Sutherland, Emily
Dougherty. She’s one of the volunteers here at the cemetery.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sutherland.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He smiled. “Mark, please. And it’s good to meet you
too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The older lady pulled two Styrofoam cups with straws
sticking out of their lids from the basket hanging on her arm and placed them
on the small table between the chairs. “Drink up. I’m sure no one will miss a
few drinks at the Presidential wreath-laying later this afternoon. She leaned
down and kissed Chandra on the cheek and whispered, “I’m so sorry about Bobby.
If you need help with little Aiden, just holler.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark reached over and picked up one of the cups and
took a long drink. “That hits the spot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She chuckled. “You sound like Aiden.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He twisted the cup, spreading the condensation
around its surface. “If you don’t mind me asking, is Bobby your husband?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He watched her take a drink, her neck long and
slender—until she choked. He leaned over and gently pounded her back as she
coughed and sputtered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Umm—no,” she coughed. “I’m not married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list-ins: "Heidi Vanlandingham" 20130519T1932; mso-list: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What about Aiden’s father?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She shook her head. “He left before Aiden was born.
We were high school sweethearts who didn’t understand what forever really
meant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Hope surged then just as quickly deflated. He still
wasn’t back to normal. His leg was healed, but he still carried the scars,
inside and out. Would a woman really be able to look past those to see the man
underneath?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So what do you do?” he asked, hoping to change the
subject. And if he were truthful with himself, find out something about her. He
wanted to know more. Much, much more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I own an online graphics company, designing logos,
websites, brochures—anything I’m asked to really.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She was so beautiful. His eyes followed the contour
of her elegant profile and the slight flutter deep in his chest surprised him.
It had been a long time since he’d felt anything other than self-disgust and
resentment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">~ ~ ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What do you think, General, sir?” Aiden asked the
ghostly figure crouched beside him on the other side of the shrub row. “He
seems real nice. And he makes Mama laugh again.” He turned and stared up at the
ghost, trying to look serious. “I’m gonna need your help. You’re better at
planning things, bein’ a general an’ all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Aiden plopped on his rear. With legs stretched in
front of him, he leaned back against his braced arms. “She’s been so sad since
Uncle Bobby died. It’s been a month and she never goes out anymore—at least
until today.” He scowled. “How am I ever gonna get a dad if she won’t even
leave the house? I’m tired of being the only one in my class without a dad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The shimmery form of the general pointed to the man
then to his mom.<br />
Aiden nodded. “You were right back at the house. I did just what you said and
ran right into his leg. I didn’t hit him hard but I think it hurt him real bad.
I know ‘cause he didn’t yell at me. Only squeezed my shoulders. He’s got really
strong fingers too. I can still feel ‘em digging into my skin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Aiden twisted his torso and glanced up at the
general, unaware of the strange looks from tourists passing by him on the path
as he seemed to be talking to himself. “’Kay. Time to begin--. How’d you say
that? Oh yea, begin phase two of Operation Dad—wish me luck, General!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He crawled through the shrubs, enjoying the smell of
dirt and freshly mowed grass then bounded over to his mom. “Mama! Did you tell
him how I saluted to the soldiers for Uncle Bobby?” He hopped onto her lap then
grabbed her almost empty cup, swigging down the last few sips of her drink then
chomping noisily on the ice cubes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Aiden, really. Do you have to do that with your
mouth open?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He glanced at her, his eyes wide. “Sure I do! My
mouth doesn’t get frozen if it’s open.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She chuckled. “Well, I can certainly understand
that.” She scooted him off her lap and turned him to face her, gripping his
slim hips and holding him still. “Okay, little man. Take my cup to Ms. Emily.
If you’re <i>really</i> polite—in other
words you wait until it’s your turn—tell her I said you could have a refill.
Think you can do that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He gave her a saucy grin. “Sure I can, Mom. Just
watch me!” He scurried off, dodging plants and statues in his haste for more
lemonade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark laughed. “I don’t think he understands the word
‘careful.’ What salute was he talking about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The moment the words were out, he wished he’d never asked.
Her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears and her perfect little chin
quivered. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he leaned forward in the chair,
resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry, Chandra.” He handed her his
handkerchief, unfolding her hands and placing it in her cupped palms. She
stared at it for so long, he wondered if he’d made another mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She finally looked up, her thinly arched eyebrows
bunched together in a frown. “You’re definitely a soldier.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He straightened, staring at her in surprise. “Excuse
me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">One side of her mouth rose and she held up the
handkerchief, pristinely folded and bleached to a brilliant white. She wiped
away her tears with her other hand and replied, “Only grandfathers and soldiers
carry handkerchiefs this immaculate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She handed it back to him then reached into her
skirt pocket and held out an almost identical handkerchief. He watched her
fingers gently smooth out the wrinkles, trying to make the small, white square
as it had been. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His heart swelled, each beat feeling as if the organ
was going to burst any second. Meeting Chandra and Aiden had been a nice
surprise but his gut told him it was more than that. They were a gift. His
gift. No matter how long he had to wait until she realized it too, he
would—because she was definitely worth waiting for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My brother Bobby was a soldier. He was killed while
defending a small village in the Paktika Province in Afghanistan. We buried him
one month ago today. Bobby taught Aiden how to salute and stand at attention
before he deployed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark closed his eyes, his own pain a deafening roar
in his head. There had been so many funerals—fallen comrades and childhood
friends—all lost to war. He sighed. “I’m sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Thank you.” She watched him rub his leg, which he’d
done off and on since they sat down. This time, though, his knuckles turned
white and the movements appeared more agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Is that how you were injured?” she forced the
question from her suddenly dry mouth, hoping she wasn’t asking the wrong
question. Knowing what to say, especially to men, had never been easy for her.
She’d grown up with Aiden’s father, but when he’d run off after finding out she
was pregnant, she’d retreated back into her shy shell. With Mark, though,
talking didn’t seem quite so hard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He was so handsome and for some reason, even though
she’d just met him, she felt drawn to him. Comfortable. And the way he looked
at her made her feel pretty. When the sun glinted through the trees above them,
his blond hair looked sun-kissed. It reminded her of a picture she’d seen in
some magazine—of an Oklahoma wheatfield just before harvest. Her fingers itched
to brush the hair off his forehead then brush it back so she could do it all
over again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He still hadn’t answered her question, and her
heartbeat sped up as her worry grew. “Mark—I’m sorry. It was inappropriate of
me to ask—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No. It wasn’t. I—I haven’t talked anyone close to
me about it. The army informed my family I’d been injured, but they don’t know
I’m stateside.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She frowned. “But why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He closed his eyes again, drawing in a deep breath
then letting it out slowly as he finally leaned back into the comfort of the
chair. “Pride. Stupid male pride.” He opened his eyes and met her steady gaze.
“My unit was assigned to the Sangrin District in Helmand Province to help the
British stop the drug highway running through there. We got too close to an IED
and six of my men died. I almost lost my leg. I didn’t want my parents to see
me until I could walk again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Her tears surprised her. She hadn’t realized she was
crying as she clutched her fist to the pain radiating in her chest. Because of
Mark. He stood and pulled her into his embrace. He stared into her eyes and
held her face in his cupped palms as if she were as fragile as an egg.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You are so beautiful. You make me want to believe
in myself again. To trust in who I am. I’ve never believed in love at first
sight, but I do now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She smiled, lost in his pale green eyes. “I knew you
were special when not once but twice you let my son run right over you and
never said a word.” The moment his lips touched hers, her toes curled and she
knew she’d finally found her own hero.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">~ ~ ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, General, we did it, didn’t we?” Aiden asked,
sipping his lemonade. He watched his mom kiss Mark. Excitement bubbled upward,
making standing still impossible. “Thanks, General!” he yelled as he raced back
through the garden, empty cup in hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The ghost watched as Aiden was pulled into their
hug. He pulled down on his jacket, the old uniform still pristine. He slowly
raised his arm, resting his hand against his brow and saluted young Aiden one
final time. Pivoting, he slowly made his way back down the path to the Tomb of
the Unknowns. His home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 25.0pt; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; text-indent: .5in;">
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<!--EndFragment-->Heidi Vanlandinghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11535732202459960897noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-88910102158721479642013-05-26T20:59:00.000-05:002013-05-26T21:29:54.713-05:00Heaven's Ghost
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">HEAVEN’S GHOST</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">By</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tamrie Foxtail<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Somehow Sky hadn’t expected cherry blossoms. Insane really,
she’d spent her entire life in the Virginia, Maryland, D.C. area, she was
certainly accustomed to the sight of cherry blossoms in May. She just hadn’t
expected to find them in a cemetery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Were there blossoms years ago when she came with her parents
to see the tomb of the unknown soldier?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Row after tidy row of white headstones stretched on as far as
the eye could see. She raised her camera and snapped a shot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">One row over her three year old daughter stood, head tilted
back, blond hair stirring in the breeze. Sky took another picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“C’mon, sweetpea, time to go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven skipped over to her. “Did you take the picture of
grandma’s daddy’s name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Uh-huh.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The late afternoon light grew soft as if a switch had been
flipped. Sky frowned, looking up. No sign of a storm, only cottony white clouds
painted above. Long, pale rays of sunlight filtered through the clouds,
reaching out to the earth below. God’s fingers, her grandmother had called it.
She took a picture and then another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Alright…” Every muscle turned to ice. Her heart refused to
beat as she staggered in a crooked circle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Heaven!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">No answer. She opened her mouth to scream her daughter’s name
once more, then nearly sank to her knees in gratitude when a bit of white with
red polka dots vanished behind a stone and reappeared a second later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Heaven Danielle!” She ran after her, keeping the little
sundress in sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane Ricker closed his eyes, fighting the headache that
threatened to swallow his brain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">One hundred, ninety-nine… He continued counting backward, a
trick one of the doctors at the VA hospital had suggested. With each number he
told himself the headache was fading. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane kept his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He
wouldn’t touch the scar on the right side of his head, wouldn’t give it that
acknowledgement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">When the pain had changed from a drill in his brain to a more
manageable level, he opened his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Mark Ricker<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His eyes moved over each letter, tracing the name. February
of 1972. Dane had been born in March of that year, twenty-three days after his
father’s death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Sky’s hand hooked into the elastic back of her daughter’s
dress, nearly jerking the little girl off her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mommy,” she
protested, “I was following the see-through man. Now he’s gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The see-through man?</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Icy drops crawled down her spine. Granted, it was a
cemetery, but she didn’t really believe in ghosts, did she?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Shifting her grip to her daughter’s hand, she let her eyes
move across the rows of markers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is that who you mean?” she asked, using her free hand to
point to the man on one knee, head bowed, in front of a stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven nodded, her pointy little chin bouncing up and down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The man certainly didn’t look transparent, she thought. The
light played with bits of red in his brown hair, hair that was the same shade
as hers. Too bad hers came from a bottle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She watched as he placed his hand on the headstone. The long
rays of light touched his head and shoulders, illuminating him. Sky raised her
camera.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The stone was warm and smooth beneath his palm. For a moment
Dane had the eerie sensation that he touched human flesh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He stared at his father’s name. A hero, who’d dragged two
soldiers to safety and returned for a third when a bullet tore through his
throat leaving him to bleed out in a jungle half a world away just weeks before
the birth of his only child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane pushed himself to his feet. Another week and he would be
on his way home to Texas. His enlistment, and a twenty year career, ended next
month. He had some money saved up, and he’d have his pension. The doctors
assured him that the headaches would continue to fade and in a few months would
be gone altogether.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A cold breeze moved over him just as a hand slammed into the
small of his back. He stumbled forward, caught himself and turned, hands coming
up in a defensive move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked around, searching for the person who’d pushed him.
Nothing in front of him but rows of white headstones, each with a small
American flag stuck in the soil in front of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are you alright?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He turned to the side. An attractive young woman in a bright
blue blouse jogged toward him, a little girl at her side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are you alright?” she asked again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He started to say someone had pushed him, then thought better
of it. Given that the three of them seemed to be the only ones in that part of
the cemetery, she’d most likely think he was crazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It was the see-through man,” the little girl said. She
stared up at him with eyes the same shade as the bluebonnets back home. “We
followed him here. I saw him push you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked at the mother. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wasn’t she supposed
to be telling her kid not to talk to strangers? And what the hell was the
see-through man?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s your name?” the child asked. He could see the mother
trying not to look at his scar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My name’s Dane,” he said, and because he had no idea what
else to say to a little kid he asked, “What’s yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My name’s Heaven, cause that’s where my daddy is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Unsure how to respond, he looked at the mother. His heart
beat quickened and words seemed to dry up in his mouth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">How long had it been since a woman made every cell in his
body stand up and salute?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“C’mon,” the mother said. “They’ll be closing soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Actually, the cemetery was open for another hour, but maybe
she was just trying to hurry the kid along.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are you visiting your grandpa, too?” the child asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He shook his head, regretting it instantly when the pain flared
bright across his vision.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A hand wrapped around his upper arm. He glanced down to see
the woman looking up at him, seeing him and not that damn scar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Bluebonnets,” he muttered, one hand reaching for the scar.
He caught himself in time and hooked his thumb back in his pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What?” Her pretty forehead creased in a ladylike frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Had he said that out loud?</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Your eyes. They’re the same color as the Texas state
flower.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Nice to know. Are you alright?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Where are you parked? We’ll walk with you to your car.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He started to tell her not to bother, he could walk himself
out that gate and call for a cab, thanks anyway. Those eyes stopped him. Would
it be so bad to walk beside a beautiful woman for a few minutes?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He fell into step beside her, watching the little girl skip
ahead. She brought her fingers to her lips then touched each stone she passed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s she doing?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m kissing the soldiers,” Heaven called back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“She has better hearing than the dog,” the woman said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What happened to her father?” he asked. “Was he in
Afghanistan?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Dan wasn’t in the military. He was a math teacher at a
community college. A good teacher. His students loved him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He was trying to decide if he should ask again what happened
to him when the woman murmured, “It was bees.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Bees?” Had he missed something?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Anaphylactic shock. He was at his sister’s, helping her
husband cut down a downed dead tree. He got stung by a couple of bees. Next
thing they knew Dan couldn’t breathe. They called an ambulance…” A tiny shrug
finished the sentence. The gesture might have seemed offhand and cold if it
hadn’t been for the tremor in her lower lip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked at the little girl. Every once in a while she
looked up and said something. Maybe the kid had an invisible playmate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“How far along were you?” He thought of his father, dying
before Dane was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“How far? Oh. Heaven was a year old.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked at her, then glanced at the child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“She’s three. She tells people she’s named Heaven because
that’s where Dan is.” They walked for another moment before she said, “My
mother suggested the name. Sky. Heaven.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He frowned, the motion tugging at the scar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My name’s Sky,” she said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Got it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They fell silent for a few minutes. The gate was within sight
when Sky said, “I saw the name and date on the stone. Was that your father?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You must have been tiny. How old were you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I wasn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Understanding smoothed her face. She nodded. “That’s why you
asked about Heaven. You thought…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m glad her father had a chance to know her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They walked the rest of the way in silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ask her out</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They walked through the gate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Sky looked at the vehicles scattered around the parking lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane stood next to her, his lips pressed together. Was he in
pain or fighting the urge to say something?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven slipped her hand into his. “The see-through man wants
you to go with us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane crouched in front of her. “Who’s the see-through man?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shrugged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane looked up at her, his brown eyes narrowed against the
sun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I don’t know,” Sky said. “She mentioned him before. I
thought she meant you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He laughed and the bold sound sent warm shivers radiating
from her stomach to her spine. The man had a beautiful laugh and she wanted to
hear it again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He held his arm out, inspecting it. “Looks pretty solid to
me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven was still holding his hand. She laughed with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You’re silly. He was standing behind you. He went like
this.” She made a beckoning motioning with her right arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A faint memory, long pushed into a dusty trunk in her mind,
shook itself free. She crouched next to her daughter, taking Heaven’s free hand
in hers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What was he wearing?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“A uniform. Like the man in the movie Grandpa was watching.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane’s gaze shifted from Sky to Heaven, his forehead creased
in a frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Sky looked at him. “My family’s been in this area forever,”
she explained. “My grandmother brought me here a few times when I was little.
Her father was killed in the Korean war when my grandmother was a senior in
high school. She used to tell me about the ghost of the unknown.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Unknown what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“He’s a soldier who walks around the cemetery. My grandmother
always swore she’d seen him back when she was here with her mother. I’d
forgotten all about the story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven brought Sky’s hand and Dane’s together, folding her
small hands over theirs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The feel of Dane’s warm skin against hers sent tiny,
pleasurable shocks radiating from their joined hands, up her arms and straight
to her heart. She looked into his eyes and knew he was feeling it too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Not fair!</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> her heart cried. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Not now when I’m
leaving</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A rough, warm palm cupped her cheek. She pressed against it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sky?” His fingers brushed a tear from her cheek. She shook
her head. Insane. She’d known this man for less than thirty minutes, didn’t
even know his last name. Why was she so certain that leaving him would tear her
heart in two?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Can Dane be my daddy?” Heaven asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane placed a kiss on Sky’s forehead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My turn to ask,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in
an ironic smile. “Are you alright?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“We leave for Texas in three weeks,” she said. “I took a job
teaching at a small community college.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The twitch of his lips grew into a full blown smile. Had she
misread things? Was he glad she and Heaven would be so far away, complications
ended before they could start?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Where?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I told you, Texas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He stood slowly, pulling both Sky and Heaven to their feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Texas is a big state, darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Bradshaw.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane threw his head back and laughed that wonderful, gallant
laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do you know what’s just a few miles East of Bradshaw?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shook her head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“A little nothing-to-it town called Shanlan. That’s my home
town.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do you go back often?” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please, please,
please let him say ‘yes.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I haven’t been home in six years.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her heart, just starting to soar, dropped to the pavement at
her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He scooped Heaven up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around
his neck and grinned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do you like horses?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Uh-huh. But I never been on one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I grew up on a quarter horse ranch. My mother lives there
with my stepdad. They still have a few horses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Can I ride one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dane glanced at Sky. “You can if Mommy says it’s alright.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There went her heart, taking off in the heavens again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m heading home next week,” he said. “I’m going to stay out
at the ranch for a little bit while I settle back in, find a job. I spent
twenty years as a mechanic in the Army. I’ve been thinking of opening my own
business. Shanlan’s only twenty miles from Bradshaw.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her cheeks hurt from smiling so big. It was a wonderful feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He held out his arm and she went to him, wrapping her arms
around his waist and burying her nose against his shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I can postpone my leaving for a few days,” he said. “The
three of us can spend some time getting to know each other before we meet back
up in Texas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She kissed the corner of his mouth. She had a feeling she was
going to spend a lot of time kissing him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Heaven, what are you doing?” Her daughter’s little arm was
moving happily from side-to-side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m waving goodbye to the see through man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As if they were already a couple, Dane and Sky turned
together to wave at someone they couldn’t see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heaven brought her fingers to her lips, kissed them and blew
a kiss to the ghost of the unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13637861455356412650noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-1076399963104191902013-05-25T04:00:00.000-05:002013-05-25T04:00:08.500-05:00Arlington Waltz<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Arlington
Waltz<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">By</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Linda Basinger</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Jennifer
Arden made her way across the sea of white crosses in Arlington National
Cemetery. She breathed in the perfume of the fresh-cut roses she carried. Her
husband Jim would have loved these, cut from the bush they’d given her parents
to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Never did it occur to her
that one day she’d be bringing bouquets from that bush to Jim’s grave. But here
she was. She visited every Wednesday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Jim
had been gone a little over two years, but a painful lump still arose in her
throat when she approached his grave. Sighing, she pressed the bouquet to her
heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “I
keep hearing how it’s supposed to get easier, Jim. Hurt less.” A tear trickled, unchecked, down one of her
cheeks. She sniffed. “It isn’t, though. It – it just isn’t. Maybe it never
will.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Finding a
crumpled tissue, she blew her nose. “I’ve done all I know to do. Everything the
counselor told me to try, too. I don’t know what else there is.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She arranged
the blooms in the vase attached to the stone. “I brought these from the bush we
planted for Mom and Dad. God, that was such a perfect day. A peace rose,” she
mused, “planted with our hopes and prayers for a quick end to the war in the
Middle East. Ironic, me bringing them to you here, a place of peace and
tranquility. But the war just goes on and on.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Pulling
bottled water from her purse, she watered the bouquet. “I think I’m making my
friends and family crazy because I can’t seem to stop grieving. Your parents
have even suggested that I consider taking off my rings. They think that would
help me feel free to find a way forward. To go on with my life. They say you
would want me to move on. Oh, love, I know you’d want me to get on with my life.
But I don’t know -- I just don’t know. Maybe when the time is right…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The soft
breeze carried a low, soft-spoken male voice to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m sorry, man.
I should be the one in there, Gary, not you.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The voice
sounded familiar. She pictured one of the soldiers she visited when taking
hand-made gifts to Walter Reed. Why did this particular man, a sergeant, stand
out in her memory so vividly? He’d lost
the lower part of his right leg, but there were many amputees. And she’d
visited a lot of soldiers and veterans over the last year. Her counselor
thought the visits would help her recover from the soul-wrenching grief that
refused to release its hold on her. Clearly, the counselor was wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The voice
continued from a short distance behind her. “It’s just not right that I’m the
only one of the squadron to get out alive.”
He coughed. “I saw your folks last week. They told me to stop thinking I
should have been killed, too. But, Gary, man…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She heard him
choke back a sob. Knew she couldn’t turn around now and risk him knowing she’d
overheard his outpouring of grief. Hearing him clear his throat and start
talking again, she turned slightly to see who’d made the comment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The man stood
a slight distance to her left and on the row immediately behind her. He was
tall, and jeans clad. From his bearing and posture it was clear to her that if
he weren’t active duty now, he’d been recently. It might be the sergeant. The
jeans could be covering a prosthetic leg. She decided to speak to him, but
before she could, he turned and left. His smooth and easy gait convinced her it
could not be the sergeant she’d met at the hospital. She suddenly became aware
of a twinge -- something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Disappointment? Over not seeing someone she didn’t even
know? Hmm. Maybe she should rethink
Jim’s folks’ suggestion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Standing at
Gary Sylvester’s grave, Eric Wyatt mentally chided himself. <i>Good God, man – pull it the hell together. You
sound like a little kid.</i> He looked up from Gary’s cross to refocus. At that
moment, a woman at a grave just ahead of him turned toward him ever so slightly.
The light breeze blew wisps of her soft brown shoulder length hair away from
her face. Immediate recognition jolted him. He took in a sudden, short burst of
air. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His beautiful
angel, his inspiration! She’d visited
the hospital several times while he was still in a wheelchair. Often bringing
hand-made gifts to the GIs, it always made his day to see her. He’d dreamt of
dancing a slow, tender waltz with her. It was his motivation. He’d endured pain
and frustration, and worked his ass off countless hours to master using his
artificial leg. He’d managed to bring his stride to near perfection. He owed
part of it to her, and knew he should thank her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The sun
glinted off the diamond on her left hand. Hell. He’d known all along she was
off limits. Still, his fantasy of dancing with her had worked miracles. With
it, he’d conquered his physical wounds. Maybe one day he could stop the
nightmares, too. The medics kept telling him it was PTSD. He knew better. He
was just weak. And it was unacceptable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jennifer
brought flowers with her to the cemetery the next Wednesday. She wasn’t too
surprised that no one else was in her vicinity. <br />
“Jim, I brought peace roses
again.” She’d just started talking about
family news when she heard a man’s voice. It came from about the same place as
the previous week. It wasn’t the same voice, though. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Survivor’s
guilt,” he said. “A kind of PTSD. He won’t accept it, though. Thinks he’s just
being weak.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She turned
subtly, so as not to stare. A rather frail-looking, pale older man stood at
Gary’s grave. He leaned heavily on a cane. Jennifer thought he was none too
stable on his feet, and wondered if she should see if he needed some assistance.
Maybe he should sit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She thought
she heard the old gentleman say something about love, but about that time a
carriage drawn by six white horses in the distance distracted her. Carrying a
black casket draped by the American Flag, it took her back in time two years. Seconds
later, an intense reflection from the afternoon sun assaulted her eyes, ending
her reverie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The old man
was gone. So frail an old man couldn’t possibly walk away so fast. She walked
to the grave he’d been visiting. Searching in all directions for depressions
that would have been made in the grass by a cane, she found nothing. As heavily
as he’d leaned on the cane when he stood at the grave, it would definitely
leave marks. It was almost as though he’d dematerialized. Could the stories of
the ghost of the unknown be true, she wondered. She saw a single red rose on
Gary Sylvester’s grave. It lay on top of a piece of paper which said, “Changing
of the Guard, Tomb of the Unknowns, 10:30 Wednesday.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The next
Wednesday, Jennifer arrived at Jim’s grave earlier than usual. A single red
rose lay there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jim,” she
began, “I’m taking this as a sign. I think you’re telling me it’s time.” She stabbed her fresh-cut rose bouquet into
the vase. For the first time, she realized she didn’t have to talk around a
painful lump in her throat. Yet another sign. Dabbing away threatening tears,
she placed her wedding rings in her purse. Then she picked up the single red
rose, and headed to the amphitheater. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jennifer
scanned the crowd, trusting that her intuition would guide her if nothing more
substantial did. It was easy to spot him near the middle of the crowd. He stood
proud and tall, waving his red rose aloft to get her attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sergeant?”
she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, ma’am. Sergeant
Eric Wyatt. Or at least I was last month. Now I’m just Eric Wyatt. He smiled broadly
and extended his hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She took his
big hand in both of hers, feeling vulnerable without her rings. Even so, it was
time for her to begin living her life again. She’d never been so sure of
anything, and she beamed up at Eric. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jennifer
Arden,” she said. “I remember you from the hospital.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His eyes,
turquoise under mahogany lashes that matched his thick hair, gave her hands the
once over. Then they took on a dreamy quality. “I remember you, too,
Jennifer.” He smiled broadly. “Better
than you might ever imagine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The ceremony
interrupted their banter. It brought tears to her eyes, as usual. She noticed
Eric also allowed a few tears to moisten the corners of his eyes. She
remembered how rigid and stern he’d seemed at Gary’s grave just the week
before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> she thought, <i>he’s making
some progress, too – like me. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He put his
arm around her. “I’d like to take you to dinner this evening,” Eric said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She smiled up
at him. “Okay. Sounds fun.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In her
peripheral vision, she caught a fleeting glance of the old man, a red rose in
his hand, near the tomb. But he vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When Eric
escorted her onto the Potomac dinner cruise, she was glad she’d dressed up. The
gleam she saw in his eyes told her he definitely approved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“D.C. at
night is gorgeous” he said, “but not as beautiful as you.” He took her right hand in his and brought it
to his lips, delivering a tender kiss. We’ll be cruising by a lot of the most
notable places in town,” he added, “Including Arlington.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His arm
draped protectively around her shoulder as they were shown to their table. Mmmm.
He smelled so good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Once they
were seated, he reached across the table to hold her hands in his. “I have a
confession to make,” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Oh no</span></i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">, she thought. <i>Please
don’t say something bad. </i>Her eyes widened. At his questioning look, she
said, “Please. I – I just don’t want anything to mar our evening.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He rubbed the
top of her hand gently with his thumb. Gave her a lopsided grin. “Since the
first time you visited that group of us at Walter Reed, I’ve thought of you as
my angel. My inspiration.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Now her eyes
grew even larger. A big smile stretched her cheeks. “I never imagined,” she
said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Thinking
about you got me through a lot of hours of hard, frustrating work learning to
get around with this.” He slapped his prosthesis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh,” was all
she managed to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I needed to
thank you,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Her shoulders
drooped. So that was it. A thank-you dinner, and that’s all. She’d foolishly
let herself believe he might have feelings for her. “I see.” She said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jennifer
pasted on a fake but cheerful smile during the delicious meal. There was even
wine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d received such sumptuous
treatment. She should have been happy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> The
band began a slow waltz. Eric rose, extending his hand toward her. “Jennifer,
may I have this dance?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Her
eyebrows rose toward her hairline. He could dance with his prothesis? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> As
if he could read her mind, he added, “Trust me, Jen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Swirling
gently around the small dance floor, she found herself humming along with the
music. Good Lord – she hadn’t done that in years. Another sign, she decided. His
arms around her felt so good. So right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Fantasizing
about you, about us, dancing like this, is what got me through,” he whispered. “I
think that’s when I fell in love with you, Jen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoCommentText" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">“Oh,
Eric.” His words went straight to her
heart. </span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">She nestled her cheek against
his shoulder, loving every tender moment of the slow waltz, of being in his
arms. She was ready to move on, to find a new love. With Eric.</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jen, do you
know that guy?” Eric gestured toward their table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What
guy?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“An old man. He’s
putting a red rose on the table.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jen smiled
softly. “Do you believe in ghosts?” <a href="" name="_GoBack"></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Silver Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15606837105470988646noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-50333548007281414782013-05-24T04:00:00.000-05:002013-05-24T04:00:11.338-05:00That Others May Live<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That Others May Live</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Silver James</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “I’m not a cripple.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Never said you were, son.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Lt. Scott Bryan glared at the cab
driver. Why wouldn’t the man take his money? He couldn’t stand people feeling
sorry for him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The man twisted in the front seat
and gestured toward the patch on the sleeve of Scott’s uniform. “Son, I was at
Hamburger Hill in sixty-nine. I wouldn’t have made it if a helicopter full of
PJs hadn’t pulled my ass out. I give a lot of you boys from Walter Reed free
rides. Just my way of sayin’ thanks.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Scott cleared his throat but the
lump that formed didn’t go away. He simply nodded and put the twenty back in
his pocket. Struggling, he managed to extricate himself from the back seat
without assistance. The doctors in Kandahar saved his legs but even after six
months of physical therapy, he still walked with a cane. Leaning down to peer
in the front passenger window, he offered a smile. “Thanks.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The cabby saluted and drove away as
Scott turned to face the entrance to Arlington National Cemetery. The gold
locket in his pocket burned a proverbial hole. He should have made this
pilgrimage months ago. Instead, he’d hung onto the necklace as a sort of good
luck talisman. The photo of the girl inside kept him pushing through the pain
and exhaustion. It was wrong of him. He’d made a promise to a soldier as the
man lay dying on the bloody deck of Scott’s helicopter—to return the locket to
the girl back home. Only the helo had been shot down on the way back to home base
after leaving the hospital heliport. His teammates had died, but Scott survived
though horribly injured. Now he had scars—inside and out—and bum legs to show
for it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> He shoved his hand into his pocket,
fingering the now-familiar square pendant. He’d wondered who the girl was.
Wife? Girlfriend? Did she mourn her soldier? He was half in love with the
picture. He’d spent hours during physical therapy fantasizing about her. He
didn’t care that she belonged to a dead man—a man he’d failed to save. That was
his job. That others may live. The creed of the United States Airforce
Pararescue Jumpers. He was supposed to save all those broken bodies he and the
other PJs retrieved from the battlefields, flying them by helicopter back to a
hospital. But he hadn’t saved this one and he hadn’t fulfilled his promise to
get the locket home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Two enlisted men passed him, both
saluting smartly and pulling him from his reverie. He raised his hand to his
forehead in response. Time to get this finished. He inquired where to locate
the grave and set off, his gait uneven, to find it. He had an apology to make
to the ghost of the man buried there.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Emily Kane looked around to make
sure no one paid her any attention. Sinking onto the grass, she crossed her
legs Indian style and reached out to trace the name on the headstone. She had
no more tears to shed so she simply sat, soaking up the early April sunshine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Decoration Day is coming next
month, Jeff. Remember I told you that Grandpa had your name added to the family
stone back home?” She tried to laugh but the sound came out strangled and
forced. “I keep reminding them that it’s called Memorial Day now, but you know
how they are. They’ll put out a flag and lay a wreath. Grandpa will be wearing
his American Legion cap and vest and he’ll salute right proper.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A tear rolled down her cheek but
she ignored it. “Ah, damn, bubba but I miss you.” More tears followed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Scott watched the woman. His heart
hurt so much for her. He’d recognized her as soon as he walked up but he hated
to intrude on her grief. He could make amends now, if he retreated to the
entrance and waited for her. He would approach her and offer the return of the
locket, just as Jeff Kane had requested. Fighting the urge to go to her, to
offer comfort, knowing he only wanted to hold her as he’d dreamed of doing all
this time, he backed away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Easy there.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Startled, Scott spun around so
quickly he teetered off-balance. Regaining his footing, he stared at the man
who’d seemed to appear from thin air. The soldier’s gaze fixed on his shoulder
patch and then the gold bar on his collar.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “You okay, sir?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Yeah. Yes. I’m good. I didn’t mean
to plow into you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The soldier stared over Scott’s
shoulder. “She comes every week, you know.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Turning toward the girl sitting at
the grave, Scott felt his heart lurch again. “She must love him a lot.” His
mouth felt as dry as Afghanistan’s deserts but he managed to get the words out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Yessir, I think she does. They
were close.” The man glanced at him. “You should go introduce yourself, Lieutenant.
She’d like that, knowing you were there, that you tried to help.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “But I didn’t. He died.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “We all die, sir. Sooner or later.
She needs t’know that he was thinking of her, remembering home.” The man
clapped Scott on the shoulder and gave a gentle push. “Go on now. I think you
need to go introduce yourself, sir. She’s a real sweetheart.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Still wobbly on his bad legs and
cane, Scott shuffled toward the grave and the pretty girl. Her hair, a dull
blonde in the photo, glistened beneath the spring sun with shades of blonde and
red. When he stopped beside her, he recognized the sprinkling of ginger
freckles across her nose and cheeks but her blue eyes were far beyond anything
her picture conveyed. She shaded those luminous eyes as she glanced up. She
offered a curious if wavery smile as she watched him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Uhm…” Scott shoved his hand into
his pocket and closed his fingers around the locket. “I’m…uhm…”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She glanced at his patch and a look
of confusion replaced the hesitant smile. “Can I help you?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “My name is Scott. Scott Bryan.
I…uhm…I’m a PJ and I…” His uncertainty surged as her eyes widened.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Were you there? With Jeff?” She
jumped to her feet and her hand landed on his arm. Warmth spread straight to
his heart. “We heard from his CO that he’d been picked up after the IED, that
the PJs came for him in their helo and got him to Kandahar. Was that you? Oh my
gosh but I’ve dreamed about meeting you, about thanking you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She all but gushed in her
excitement. All he could do was nod before she started babbling again. She
finished by saying, “I’m Emily. Emily Kane. I…could I buy you a cup of coffee
or a piece of pie or something?” Emily looked so pretty and so full of life.
Scott couldn’t resist her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Thirty minutes later, they shared a
table at her favorite coffee shop. She had something frou-frou, he had plain
black in a ceramic mug. He loved the sound of her voice. Hell, if he was
honest, he’d admit he loved her—no matter how inappropriate those feelings.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Jeff was an absolute jerk when we
were growing up. And heaven forbid when a date came to the house to pick me up.
He’d answer the door with a shotgun in his hands.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Her words finally penetrated his
guilt-induced haze. “Wait…what? Dates?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Emily tilted her head and squiggled
her nose. Scott had the insane desire to kiss its tip. “Uhm…yeah. Dates. I
dated in high school. And my jerk of a brother decided he needed to scare off
any potential boyfriends.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> He stared at her for a long moment,
realized his mouth was gaping, and snapped his jaw closed. “Jeff was your
brother?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> She nodded, looking bemused. “Yeah.
And?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Scott didn’t breathe for a minute,
despite the hammering of his heart. Then he started to laugh. He couldn’t stop.
Within moments, he was crying through the laughter, feeling foolish, forlorn,
and for the first time in months, hopeful.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Emily reached over and cupped her
hand over his. His fingers automatically laced through hers. How many times had
he envisioned doing just that? He couldn’t count. Didn’t need to. When he
finally regained control, he pulled the locket from his pocket and slid it
across the table.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “I thought you were his wife. He
asked me to return the locket to you. It was really important to him. It was
all he could think of, talk about, until I agreed. I planned to take it back to
him, the next time we had a run to the hospital, but we crashed. And by the
time—” His voice broke and he swiped his free hand over his eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Shhh,” Emily soothed. “It’s okay.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “I have to say this. I found out
Jeff died. I didn’t save him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “But you tried.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “But I didn’t save him.” He
couldn’t face her any longer, couldn’t stand to see her condemnation of him, so
he dropped his chin to his chest, refusing to meet her eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Taking his hand in both of hers,
Emily ducked and tilted her head so he’d have to look at her. “I tucked that
stupid locket into his duffle bag as he was shipping out. He never mentioned
anything so I figured it had dropped out and gotten lost.” Her smile remained
strong even though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “But it didn’t. He
found it. Kept it. And made sure it got back to me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> They drank coffee. Talked. Held
hands. Shared secrets. He admitted how he’d fallen in love with her picture,
how thinking of her had seen him through his rehabilitation. She told him of
growing up in Georgia, of coming to Virginia for college and staying, unwilling
to go home where everything reminded her of her brother and best friend.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Hours later, she drove him back to
Walter Reed Hospital. Emily left him with a kiss and a promise of seeing him
soon. They dated, became sweethearts, and visited Jeff’s grave every week. As
Memorial Day approached, Emily scored tickets for the Presidential wreath-laying
ceremony from her boss, a senator.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Memorial Day dawned overcast and
chilly. Scott dressed slowly, making sure each part of his dress uniform was
meticulous. His shoes glowed from the spit shine he’d put on them the previous
night, his medals—including his Purple Heart—lined his chest in precise rows.
Emily picked him up at the hospital and they joined the throngs at Arlington.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> They found their place in the
reviewing stand—on the front row. People came up to Scott, thanking him for his
service. The lump in his throat had grown to the size of fist and if Emily
hadn’t been there, holding his hand, gazing up at him with adoring eyes, he
would have bolted. He didn’t deserve praise. The ghosts of all the men he
hadn’t saved lined up in his mind. Each one demanded recognition. He freaked
out as the echoes of explosions and the clatter of chopper blades and small
arms fire warred with the stench of blood and guts and the moans of broken men.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Someone bumped his arm, a gentle
nudge he almost didn’t feel, but it was enough to pull him back from the brink.
He was surprised to see the same soldier who had urged Scott to meet Emily
appear beside him. The man winked when Scott glanced at him<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Heidi%20Vanlandingham" datetime="2013-05-15T21:57">.</ins></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “You were right,” Scott whispered.
“She is a real sweetheart.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> An anticipatory stir ruffled the
crowd. The soldier tapped the USAF Pararescue patch on Scott’s shoulder. “That
others may live. That means you, too, sir.” He glanced pointedly at Emily, who
was so engrossed in the pomp and ceremony she paid no attention to them.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> By habit, Emily slipped her arm
through Scott’s, distracting him for a moment. When he glanced back at the
soldier, the man was walking toward the Tomb of the Unknown. Before he could
say anything, the ceremony began with members of the Old Guard executing their
measured march. The soldier leaned against the Tomb watching. As the honor
guard passed, another man joined him—a man who looked very much like Jeff Kane.
Both men gazed straight at Scott, and saluted. He saluted automatically then
watched as they disappeared.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> At the end of the ceremony, with
the wreath in place before the Tomb, and with the last wavering notes of “Taps”
drifting away on the breeze, Emily rose on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his
lips.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Did you see them?” she asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> His gaze returned to the Tomb.
“That others may live,” he murmured. He cupped Emily’s cheeks in his hands and
kissed her tenderly. “I’m ready to start living, Emily. With you, if you’ll
have me. I love you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She blinked rapidly and he
recognized the hope shining in her eyes. “Are you…are you…”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Will you marry me, Emily Kane?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Absolutely, Scott Bryan.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> As they walked off arm-in-arm, the
two ghosts leaned against the Tomb. “I think she got a good one, Sergeant
Kane.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Thanks to you. Hey, I don’t even
know your name.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “Yeah. That’s the way it works,
Sarge.” The Ghost of the Unknown shrugged and offered a wry smile as he faded
into the white granite of the Tomb. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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Silver Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15606837105470988646noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-65215083219314225022013-05-01T20:00:00.000-05:002013-09-06T20:49:09.051-05:00GHOST OF THE UNKNOWN<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0SuSZ6e7BGlI_gBHeiVKTepL7SSeGyvpsZWb012hiq3S0tpjmG0NdC6w-ikMgLykpILhipT2GpYNhCdxhgrbj68wCc0-XOXvHn2Gm_wN6rg0VdMSJnwgE4m8LMafeldJvcdYRl-U9xuP/s1600/Arlington+Anthology+Pic.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0SuSZ6e7BGlI_gBHeiVKTepL7SSeGyvpsZWb012hiq3S0tpjmG0NdC6w-ikMgLykpILhipT2GpYNhCdxhgrbj68wCc0-XOXvHn2Gm_wN6rg0VdMSJnwgE4m8LMafeldJvcdYRl-U9xuP/s1600/Arlington+Anthology+Pic.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span> </div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Arlington National
Cemetery—sacred ground and home to the spirits of generations who made the
ultimate sacrifice to keep America free. A somber place filled with orderly
rows of white tombstones and the sound of Taps. A place of grief and,
strangely, peace. A place where warriors can finally rest. A visitor would
never expect to find life and love there. Unless they meet the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ghost of the Unknown</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Join the Wild Okie
Writers in celebration of Memorial Day for tales of remembrance, of respect, and the affirmation that love
conquers all and soothes the hearts of weary warriors.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><em>Click the sidebar titles for entrance into Arlington National Cemetery.</em></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-7349275842035297292013-03-31T00:15:00.000-05:002013-03-31T09:31:42.579-05:00Easter Flowers<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Easter Flowers</span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">By<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tamrie Foxtail<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The last thing on Jenny Hill’s mind was stopping at the
chapel. She wasn’t sure what made her turn into the parking lot and wrestle
Tanner’s wheelchair out of the trunk of the ancient car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is this where Grandma and Grandpa live?” Tanner asked, his
six year old face confused. “This looks like a church. I thought they lived in
a house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“They do. I just thought we’d stop here first.” She put on
her best ‘I’m cheerful, can’t you tell?’ smile. “I always meant to stop by when
I lived here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner looked doubtful, after all she only took him to church
at Christmas and Easter, although it was just days until Easter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“There’s a staircase here that’s called ‘the miraculous
staircase.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner wrapped his arms around her neck and let her pull him
from the car to deposit him in the wheelchair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why is it miraculous?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I don’t really know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny knew that stopping at the chapel was a stalling tactic.
She hadn’t seen her parents in seven years, not since she eloped with Dell
Green the week after high school graduation. They didn’t even know they had a
grandchild. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Grateful there were no steps, she wheeled Tanner into the
chapel, surprised to see people kneeling, heads bowed in prayer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Now what? She wasn’t Catholic. Unsure what to do, Jenny slid
into one of the little pews, staying close enough to her son to reach for his
hands, now folded in prayer. His dark head was bent, eyes closed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Keeping one hand on the arm of his wheelchair she followed
Tanner’s example, bowed her head and closed her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Please let my son walk again. The words sprang from her
heart. Please help me to shelter and feed him. Please let my parents love him.
I didn’t mean to hurt them. I was selfish and stupid and I’m so sorry, God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A sense of peace warmed her. A little bit of the weight she
carried on her shoulders fell away. She looked at Tanner to find his brown eyes
on her, a slight smile curving his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What did you pray for?” she whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“For a daddy. One who loves us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His words, spoken in innocence, tore at her heart. Why hadn’t
she listened to her grandmother who’d told her that the best gift a woman could
give her children was a father who’d love them and guide them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t be sad,” Tanner whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She gave him her best fake smile. “How could I be sad when I
have the best little boy in the world?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben Flowers lowered the camera as he watched the blond-haired
woman push the little boy’s wheelchair toward the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny Hill. She’d been out of his league in high school.
Jenny was a cheerleader and one of the popular girls. Ben was the class nerd,
always drawing buildings and taking pictures. He was the one bullies bumped
into in the hallways, the one people laughed at and called The Rail because he
was so skinny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He shook his head. He’d had such a crush on her in High
School. Hadn’t she run off with that troublemaker Dell Green?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny brought Tanner’s wheelchair to a halt beside the car,
using her foot to engage the brake, keeping the chair in place while she fished
around in her purse for the keys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">When her fingers failed to locate the key ring she looked in
the window and groaned out loud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s wrong?” Tanner asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She closed her eyes, opening them a second later. Nothing had
changed, her keys still dangled from the ignition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Anything wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The masculine voice startled her. She whipped her head
around, staring at the tall ,slender man behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I locked my keys in the car.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why don’t you call Grandma and Grandpa?” Tanner asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She looked at Tanner’s sweet face. He was pinning such hope
on grandparents he hadn’t even met.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No cell phone,” she reminded him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The man pulled his from a clip on his belt and handed it to
her. “Use mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She stared at the phone, not sure she even knew how to use
it. It was a smart phone, much fancier than the cheap little flip phone she’d
used.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“We went to high school together,” he said in a tone meant to
put her at ease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She raised an eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You are Jenny Hill, aren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She stared at the man, trying to find something familiar in
the lanky build, the dark hair and brown eyes. Nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ben Flowers,” he said, shifting the phone to his left hand
and holding out his right. “We both had Algebra II with Mr. Black.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She tried to place him, but she’d been pretty self-centered
in high school, more so than most teenage girls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I sat across from you. I wore glasses, then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She remembered the too thin boy with the silver rimmed
glasses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You were always getting in trouble for drawing in class,”
she said slowly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s right.” He held out the phone again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She took it, aware of her son’s watchful eyes. It took her a
second but she figured out how to use his phone and dialed her parents’ number.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">How many times had she called them over the years, only to
hang up before they could answer? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They had warned her away from Dell, but she’d been young,
headstrong and in love, or so she told herself. Looking back, she realized
she’d been more intrigued by Dell’s bad boy image than anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The phone rang three times then, for the first time in almost
seven years she heard her father’s voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You’ve reached the Hill residence. Call us back on Monday
and have a great weekend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She hit end call and handed the phone back to Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s the Friday before Easter,” she said numbly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben nodded. “Good Friday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“We always went out of town that weekend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Call their cell phone,” Tanner suggested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“They don’t have one, at least they didn’t the last time…”
Aware of Ben’s scrutiny she let her words trail off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben’s eyes moved over her old car. She could almost see him
adding up the pieces: little cargo section with room for the wheel chair, one
side of the back seat crammed with boxes, same for the front passenger seat.
Out of state tags, no cell phone. Yep, he’d figured it out. She was out of
money and she and her child had nowhere to go. She was throwing herself on the
mercy of the parents she’d hurt years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben made a call on his cell. “Hey, Danny. You anywhere near
the chapel? Great. You have your slim jim with you? No, not me.” He looked at
Jenny, understanding in his dark eyes. “No, you’d be doing it for a lady in
distress. Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He put the phone back in the clip. “He’s working, but he’ll
stop by on his way home, about an hour from now.” He put a hand on Tanner’s
shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tanner Hill.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You hungry, Tanner?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He nodded. Jenny felt a twist of guilt. Lunch had been cheese
crackers. She had forty-three cents left to her name and just enough gas to
make it to her parents’ house--only they weren’t there. She and Tanner had
slept in the car the last two nights, cleaning up in gas station restrooms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I know a little restaurant not too far from here. They serve
the best fried catfish in the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She saw the hunger on her son’s face and nearly cried. She
couldn’t feed her child, she couldn’t pay the locksmith to get the keys out of
the car. She couldn’t even beg her parents for help until Monday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Well?” Ben asked, his eyes on her. “How about it? My treat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She heaved a sigh of relief. Ben Flowers was hardly more than
a stranger, still he was offering to feed her son. At this moment, that made
him her hero.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben lifted Tanner into his SUV. The boy was surprisingly
light, despite the leg braces worn over his jeans. He lowered the boy into the
seat and stepped back to allow Jenny to fuss over the seat belt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">What had happened? He wasn’t surprised Dell Green was nowhere
in sight. No one, except perhaps Jenny, would have figured on him sticking
around to take care of her and their child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They drove the few short blocks to The Flower Box. He
unloaded the wheelchair and put Tanner in it, holding the door open so Jenny
could push Tanner inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“The Flower Box?” Tanner said. “That doesn’t sound like a
restaurant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You can read?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner nodded. “Mommy taught me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben moved a chair away from one of the tables, sliding
Tanner’s wheelchair into place before pulling out a chair for Jenny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“After the accident,” she said, “Tanner wasn’t able to go
outside and play. We didn’t have a computer or fancy toys, so I taught him to
read. He’s very smart.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She smiled at her son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He felt a hand on his shoulder and tipped his head back to
look into his aunt Aggie’s blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Cat fish for you,” she said. “And who is this fine looking
young man?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner laughed. “I’m Tanner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“And what would you like to eat?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner bit his lip and glanced at Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Whatever you want,” Ben assured him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Not Catholic, huh?” Aunt Aggie said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At the puzzled looks Jenny and Tanner gave, he explained.
“Fridays in Lent--no meat if you’re Catholic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t worry,” Aunt Aggie laughed. She gave Tanner a playful
wink. “We got fried chicken, meatloaf, hamburgers and pork chops for all the
non-Catholics.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fried chicken!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You must come here a lot,” Jenny said when his aunt left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My aunt and uncle own the place. I worked here when I was in
high school.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They talked about mundane things over dinner. He noticed she
steered clear of any mention of Dell Green or her plans for the weekend. He
thought of the boxes in the car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben excused himself, stepped into his uncle’s office and made
a phone call. When he stepped back into the restaurant he spotted his friend
Danny and motioned him over to the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Danny held out a set of keys and smiled at Jenny. “You must
be the lady in distress. Don’t worry. I locked your car back up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“How did you know where to find us?” Jenny asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ben sent me a text.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She spoke hesitantly. “What do I own you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Nothing. I work two streets over. Wasn’t any trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Danny has two daughters,” Ben explained. “They keep locking
their keys in the car so he keeps the slim jim in the glove box.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her relief was palpable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After a moment of conversation Danny left for dinner with his
wife and daughters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are we going to sleep in the car, again?” Tanner asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No,” Ben said, before Jenny could speak. “My folks have a
little garage apartment. They’re expecting you and your mom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben’s dark eyes met hers. She knew she should protest but she
kept seeing the discomfort on her son’s face after a night spent sleeping in
the car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My mother says you’ll be doing her a favor,” Ben said
softly. “She hadn’t had a chance to air it out and do a little spring cleaning.
She was hoping you wouldn’t mind doing that for her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She nodded, a lump of gratitude swelling in her throat. She’d
scrub the woman’s house with a toothbrush if it meant shelter for her son tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Now, if she could just figure out to feed Tanner until her
parents came home Sunday night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben was tall, slender and dark. His mother was short, plump
and fair. Jenny wondered if he might have been adopted, at least until his
father walked in the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her eyes moved from father to son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin Flowers laughed out loud. “Yes, we know exactly what
Ben’s going to look like in forty years.” She gave Jenny’s hand a little pat.
“If it’s not too much of an imposition would you and Tanner join me for
breakfast? Tom,” she motioned to her husband, “is leaving early in the morning
to go fishing with his brother so I’ll end up eating breakfast alone unless Ben
stops by. I thought I’d make pancakes and bacon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner bounced a little in his wheelchair. “I love pancakes
and bacon. Can we, Mom? Please?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She thought of her prayer in the chapel. Shelter and food for
her son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sure.” She smiled at Erin. “But only if you’ll let me help
with the clean up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin had the coffee on, pancake batter ready and bacon
cooking on a sheet in the oven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Pour yourself a cup of coffee,” she said as she turned on
the burners beneath two skillets. “Tanner, there’s milk or juice in the
fridge.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny poured him a glass of orange juice. “What can I do?”
she asked Erin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have everything under control. When you raise five boys
you learn to manage.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Five?” She racked her brain, trying to remember Ben having
any brothers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin nodded as she poured batter in a skillet. “Ben’s the
youngest. Will was almost nine and I thought he was going to be the last, but
then Ben showed up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I wish I had a brother,” Tanner said. “I don’t even have a
dad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tanner! You have a father, he’s just…gone.” She didn’t want
Erin to think that she didn’t even know who her son’s father was. Bad enough
she hadn’t married him. Dell had walked out on her as soon as she told him she
was pregnant. She’d been too ashamed to call her parents and instead had spent
the next few years living a hand to mouth existence with her son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I never met him,” Tanner said with a slight air of
rebellion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin put a hand on Tanner’s shoulder, leaned over and kissed
his cheek. “You’ll have to pray about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I prayed for a dad when we were at the chapel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“The Loretto Chapel,” Jenny explained. “We stopped there
yesterday. That’s where we ran into Ben.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin smiled as she flipped a pancake in the air. “Ben loves
that chapel. I think he’s taken a thousand pictures of it over the years.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She had a sudden memory of Ben with a camera in his hands,
snapping pictures when they were in high school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“He was the photographer for the yearbook!” Jenny exclaimed.
“I had forgotten all about that. Is that what he does now, photography?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Architect. Still loves taking pictures though, mostly of
buildings. Me, I’d rather take pictures of people, but to each his own.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Does Ben have kids?” Tanner asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Unbidden a question popped into Jenny’s mind. Did he have a
wife?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“He’s never been married. Although I have faith God will
bring him to the right person.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My parents told me that,” Jenny said. “My mother kept
telling me to be patient, that God had someone special in mind for each of us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin gave a little nod. “My grandmother used to tell me that
God has a perfect plan for each and every one of us but being human, and having
free will, we manage to screw it up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin scooped three pancakes onto a plate and added a few
slices of bacon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Move that chair and Tanner can scoot right up to the table.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She set the plate in front of him. “Now don’t you dare think
about leaving my table hungry,” she said with a smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I won’t!” Tanner dug into the pancakes with gusto.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Erin sat down across from Jenny, looking over her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I just sat down, Ben. Get yourself a plate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After breakfast Ben asked Jenny to join him on a walk around
the neighborhood. His mother assured her she and Tanner would be just fine.
They were going to watch a movie together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As they headed down the driveway Ben reached for her hand,
half expecting her to pull away. She glanced at him, then looked straight
ahead, her hand remaining tucked in his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I grew up in a neighborhood like this,” she said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Where have you lived the last few years?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oklahoma City.” They walked in silence for a few minutes. He
was searching for a safe topic when she spoke, her voice so soft he had to
concentrate to hear her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My parents didn’t want me to date Dell. I was young and
defiant and thought I knew more than they did. Dell was good looking and fun to
be with and…dangerous, if that makes sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“The bad boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“He kept saying we would get married, so why wait. I wanted
to believe him. I got pregnant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Did he marry you?” Ben asked gently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“He told me ‘Get rid of it.’ I couldn’t do that. He left and
it’s been just the two of us ever since. I’ve waitressed and cashiered, worked
at fast food restaurants and cleaned hotel rooms. I’ve raised my son in tiny,
dark, filthy apartments because I was too proud to call my parents and beg
forgiveness.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What makes you think you’d have to beg?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She turned to look at him. “They told me not to get involved
with Dell. I’m their only child and look how I’ve hurt them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He squeezed her hand. “Remember the parable of the prodigal
son?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shrugged. “I can’t even get a hold of them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tell me about Tanner’s wheelchair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She stopped on the sidewalk, her blue eyes meeting his. “It
was his last day of Kindergarten. I picked Tanner up.” She closed her eyes as
if seeing everything in her mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It was a beautiful day. The sky was this perfect, incredible
shade of blue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She opened her eyes. “Terrible things shouldn’t happen on
beautiful days. They should happen when there’s rain and thunder. You should
feel them coming--have a chance to brace yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“But you didn’t see it coming.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shook her head. “We were past the school zone but I
hadn’t started to accelerate yet. There were little kids on the sidewalk and I
preferred to wait till I was a little further down the road. I didn’t look. I
always tell Tanner to look, but I didn’t look.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tears glazed her eyes, spilling over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Did you blow the stop sign?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shook her head. Her mouth opened, then closed again as if
there were no words to tell him what had happened to her son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush
the tears away. He kissed her forehead. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You can
tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I had him in the backseat,” she whispered. “That’s where
five year olds were supposed to be. He likes to sit on the passenger side so he
can see my face when I’m driving. He was buckled in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You didn’t run the stop sign,” he said. “Someone else did?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She nodded, her face barely moving within the embrace of his
palms. “It was another mother. She’d picked up her daughter from the middle
school. They were arguing. She said she didn’t even see the stop sign.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Were you hurt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No. At first I thought Tanner was all right because I didn’t
see any blood.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She met his gaze, her lower lip trembling. “I knew I wouldn’t
be able to open the car door so I climbed over the seat. He was crying, but he
didn’t have a scratch on him. I thought he was just scared. Then the other
driver backed her car up and I could open the back door. That’s when I saw his
side. His shoulder was dislocated, his arm and hip were broken. He had broken
ribs and a punctured lung. His spine had been twisted. At first the doctors
thought he’d be able to walk again once the swelling went down. He was able to
move his legs, even able to stand with leg braces and a stander.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“But not walk?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No. They put him in a walker and his legs just collapsed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her eyes moved over his face. “I lost my job when my sick
leave and vacation ran out. They told me I had to come back to work, but I
couldn’t leave Tanner there in the hospital alone. I only had two hundred
dollars in savings. We couldn’t pay the rent on the apartment so we moved in
with a friend. That worked for a while, but then she was getting married. I
didn’t know what else to do. I had found another job, but I had to take off a
lot for Tanner’s appointments. I couldn’t do it alone anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He pulled her into his arms, tucking the top of her head
beneath his chin. “You’ve never been alone. God’s been at your side the whole
time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She shook her head. “I haven’t even been to church since high
school.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Then tomorrow’s the perfect day to start.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tomorrow?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Easter Sunday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Somehow, telling Ben about the accident had cleared her mind
of the guilt. She’d helped Erin clean the house, grateful because Ben’s mother
had insisted she and Tanner eat lunch with her and Ben. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">That evening, when she sat down to dinner with Ben and his family,
she watched the way Ben interacted with her son. Despite knowing each other for
only two days they had developed an easy camaraderie, heads bent close,
laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In the morning she and Tanner joined the family for an early
breakfast. Everyone joined hands and bowed their heads while Ben’s father said
a prayer. She started to let go of Tanner and Ben’s hands only to find Ben
maintaining his hold on hers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s our Easter tradition,” he said, “to each give thanks
for something that has happened in our lives since Christmas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She listened to Tom and Erin give thanks. Then it was Ben’s
turn. He squeezed her hand and she wondered why. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Lord,” he said. “I thank you for answering with a ’Yes,’ a
prayer I had long thought you answered ‘No.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny looked at their faces, uncertain what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Go on,” Erin urged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She felt Tanner’s warm little hand in hers. Love and
gratitude swelled her heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank you for the life of my son. I came so close to losing
him. And thank you for bringing Ben to us when we had no one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“And thank you for answering my prayer,” Tanner said simply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She’d have to ask him later what that prayer was, since the
only one she knew of was his prayer for a daddy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The last notes of the final hymn faded. Everyone knelt for a
moment of private prayer. Jenny tried not to think about what would happen if
her parents turned away from her and Tanner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She opened her eyes and stood. Ben stepped from the pew,
reaching back for Tanner to lift him into his wheelchair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner grabbed the pew with one hand and Ben’s hand with the
other. He pulled himself to a standing position and took one small sideways
step and then another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny put a hand over her mouth, holding back a gasp. Ben met
her eyes, shaking his head the tiniest bit, warning her not to react just yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Four more little steps took Tanner to the end of the pew. He
let go of the pew in front of him, taking a larger step to reach Ben. Holding
both of Ben’s hands now, he turned to her, his face radiant. “Did you see?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Unable to speak, tears clogging her throat and spilling down
her cheeks, Jenny nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ben scooped her son into his arms, hugging him close burying
his face against Tanner’s neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She stepped into the aisle, hugging her son and Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is that what you prayed for?” she asked Tanner. “Is that
what you were giving thanks for this morning?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He shook his head, one arm looped around Ben’s neck. “No. I
prayed for a daddy. Remember? This was just extra.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She looked at Ben, her cheeks warm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “And my
prayer of thanks? I fell in love with you back in high school and I asked God,
if you were the one for me, to bring us together.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I…” She hugged him again. “I love you, Ben Flowers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked at something over her shoulder and winked. “Good,
because I intend to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’ll have to learn a little more about you,” a familiar
voice said. “But you’re off to a good start.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny barely registered her father’s presence before feminine
arms enfolded her. When she stepped back at last she saw her son, now held in
her father’s arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“How did you know where we were?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You called your parents from my cell phone,” Ben explained.
“I just checked my call log for their number and left a message on their
machine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Whenever we’re away from home,” her mother explained, “we
check our messages every day, in case you’ve called.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her father nodded. When he spoke there were tears in his
voice. “When we got Ben’s message we tossed everything in a bag, checked out of
the hotel and headed back to Santa Fe. We drove all night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I know you want to spend some time alone with Jenny and
Tanner,” Erin said, “but why don’t you come to our house at four for Easter
dinner? I have a feeling we’re going to be sharing a grandson.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny’s mother hugged her again. “We never stopped waiting
for you to come home. We never stopped praying.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tanner grinned at his grandmother. “Erin said Easter’s the
season for miracles.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jenny looked up at her son, held lovingly in his
grandfather’s arms. She reached for Ben’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“She’s right. And she raised a pretty amazing son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She walked out of the church surrounded by love.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span> </div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;">HAPPY
EASTER EVERYONE!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;">Please
come back and join us in May when our next series will honor our
soldiers during Memorial Day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></o:p><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13637861455356412650noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-75109200956068022202013-03-30T00:00:00.001-05:002013-03-30T00:00:00.861-05:00Adrian's Choice <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian’s Choice </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">By</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Vinita Eggers</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Santa Fe, New Mexico</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Present Day</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Meg!
Number fourteen wants to talk to you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In
the process of putting the finishing touches on the seven tier wedding cake for
her oldest brother’s wedding, Meghna Taylor winced as the unexpected bellow
made her hand tremble. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Meg
considered it a blessing that the customers at Sweet Bites felt comfortable
talking to the head chef. However, when she had so many orders to finish and
Easter was flashing its pastel colored eggs too close for her comfort, it was
harder to consider it a blessing. She sent a silent <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thank you</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sorry</i>
heavenward. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thank you</i> for the great
customers and the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sorry </i>for her bad
attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Coming.”
Meg stepped back and gestured to her assistant to take over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d wanted to personally finish this one
but maybe God had a different plan in mind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Whipping
off her hair net and stuffing it into her pocket, Meg paused before the doors
to the seating area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She put on her
public face – competent, confident chef. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Meg
walked through the hundred year old restaurant she’d spent a year of her life
renovating. As she conversed graciously with the customers who stopped her, she
couldn’t help but feel pride for what she’d accomplished. She smiled at the
people who caught her eye and, in general, did her best at being the perfect
hostess. She kept her path aimed for table fourteen and the dark hair she could
now see above the booth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nearing
the table, Meg smoothed her apron as she turned to the patron who’d asked to
see her. “You asked to speak to —”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian Mainwaring? What is he doing
here?</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her
traitorous heart flipped, making the last two years fall away as she remembered
her first view of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d towered over
her as she’d run into his classroom, his full lips compressed into a displeased
line and eyes an icy blue that made her shiver. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That
day Meg realized she was masochistic. Despite his foul mood, she’d found Adrian
fascinating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was just glad she hadn’t
done anything to give away her feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Adrian had made his disapproval obvious which had begun his habit of
saving his most insulting taunts and ferocious scowls just for her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For
six months, Meg had borne the conflicting emotions of unwanted attraction and
absolute dislike for her instructor. She’d prayed daily to have them removed
from her life, to have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him</i> removed
from her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the apparent answer had
been, “No”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Meg
Taylor?” Adrian cocked his head in her direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His eyes were covered by dark wrap-around glasses
obscuring most of his lean face. A seeing-eye dog at his feet, his unexpected
gaunt frame and white walking stick with the red tip gave silent testimony to
the trials he’d dealt with in the last three months. She’d heard about his
accident through the grapevine and even stopped by the Loretto Chapel to pray
for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m
Meg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You asked to speak to me, Mr.
Mainwaring?”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
knew who she was the moment he detected a whiff of lilacs in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It steadied him, dialed the nervousness he’d
refused to acknowledge down a notch. This was the Meg Taylor he knew, the one
who, for six months, made his classroom an exciting, adventurous place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m
not your instructor anymore, Meg. Call me Adrian.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her
familiar scent and something wholly feminine had imprinted itself on his mind
and heart the first day she’d run into his classroom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Dark
brown curls had escaped her untidy bun to frame her gorgeous face. Deep brown
eyes invited him to linger in their depths and her bronze skin had enticed him
to touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The curve of her lips
encouraged him to laugh with her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She
wasn’t the first girl of East Indian descent in his class, and she wouldn’t be
the last, but she’d been the first to make him take a second look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Adrian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How may I help you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
heard the polite uncertainty in her voice and inwardly winced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He deserved that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Due to their professional relationship, he
hadn’t been able to act on his attraction as he would’ve any other woman he
found appealing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In
his efforts to spend as much time with her as possible, he’d gone overboard and
made it look as though she was a bad cook with the number of times he’d made
her repeat culinary assignments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Food’s
great.” Hoping to redeem himself, Adrian continued, “I’ve heard good things
about you. I’m glad I came.”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Thank you.” Meg fought the urge to snort at
Adrian’s assessment of the food, remembering how most of her culinary
masterpieces had been deemed merely <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">acceptable</i>
by him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Meg,
will you join me for coffee tonight?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
nerve of the man! Showing up out of the blue, complimenting her on her food, and
now asking her out. He knew she didn’t date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After he’d mistreated her for six months, he’d asked her for a date the
day she’d received her grades.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Although
she felt a strong connection to Adrian as a man, it was one of the hardest
things she’d done— say no to the offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For one, he was a non-believer and she took to heart the scripture to
not be unequally yoked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Secondly,
she didn’t believe in the modern American concept of dating. He knew she
preferred the biblical concept of courtship, of getting to know someone with
the intent of marriage. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
don’t think so.” Meg shook her head before she remembered that he couldn't see
her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s
not a date. I have to say something to you and it needs to be said in private.
” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Private.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She wasn’t going near
anything that resembled private with this man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Adrian was dangerous to her self-control in a way that terrified her
because he made her forget her beliefs and do what he wanted.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing up straighter and putting more steel
into her voice, she said, “Anything you want to say, you can say here.”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
realized she wasn’t going to budge on this just like she hadn’t budged on her
no-dating rule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her refusal had made him
angry, at her and her God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
hadn’t understood when she’d said she’d be happy to consider him a friend
only.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t wanted friendship
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he didn’t want it now, but if
that is what God intended for their relationship, he would be content with
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It
had been hard to come to that peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
losing the sight in his eyes, breaking his leg and nearly dying in the car
accident three months ago had opened his spiritual eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’ve
just met with my pastor. I will be baptized next Sunday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want you to be there. Please say that you
will come.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Adrian…”
Meg trailed off, suspicion heavy in the single word. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
was in an accident three months ago.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
know. I’m sorry.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadness and caring
infused the words. But then Meg had always cared for him, even when he’d been
at his autocratic worst. During the week that he’d been afflicted with a
particularly strong case of the cold virus, she’d made him chicken noodle soup
every day. It had been the only time in his life he’d been happy to be sick. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She
just hadn’t been willing to compromise her principles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that time, he’d thought he hated her for
her firm stance but it was only after the accident that he’d realized how
special that was. How special <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i>
was. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Caring
for someone who didn’t have the same principles, who didn’t even respect them,
took a great deal of inner strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t
be. It was exactly the kick in the pants I needed.” Adrian smiled at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It made me realize what I lacked in my life.
Pride kept me from submitting to His will.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the need to be his own man, to blaze his own trail. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d always thought that weak men submitted to
God because they couldn’t deal with their lives. Men who couldn’t make hard decisions
and live with the consequences of those decisions. He’d been wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“The
chaplain in the hospital helped me with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Believer’s Prayer</i>. He also helped me find a church.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
retrieved a card from his breast pocket and slid it across the table to Meg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“This
is the address.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you come.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When
she didn’t respond, he slid out of the booth, grasped the dog’s harness in his
right hand, flicked out his walking stick with the left and proceeded to make
his way to the door. The hair on his nape stood up in awareness that Meg
watched him the entire way.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">After
Adrian left the restaurant, Meg spent countless hours trying to talk herself
out of going to his baptism. She’d prayed for his acceptance of God’s mercy for
the last two years. She’d even stopped by the Loretto Chapel on the day she’d
heard of his accident, and prayed for his salvation and continued good health. She
finally decided she wasn’t about to miss this milestone in his spiritual
journey.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Whether
Adrian cared for her the way Meg hoped he did was moot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d taken the time to find her, to extend the
invitation in person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all that
effort, being present at his baptism was the least she could do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fluttering in her stomach intensified when
she approached Adrian on Sunday morning and said hello. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He graciously introduced Meg to his friends
and family, putting her at ease. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">After
they all trooped into the church, Meg found herself seated next to Adrian in
the front pew reserved for his family. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
sanctuary was decorated in white and purple and gold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ceiling to floor banners hung on the walls,
proclaiming, “Christ has died” “Christ is risen” and “Christ will come again”.
A huge bouquet of white lilies, purple lilacs and yellow forsythia stood at the
bottom of the steps leading up to the main platform.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Six red velvet armchairs sat on it, five of
them occupied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The choir sat behind a
short wooden partition that divided the platform into two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right behind the choir was the baptismal
pool. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Concentrating
on the sermon had never been so hard. Adrian’s nearness had a magnetic pull on
Meg’s attention today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually, she was
a rapt audience, the sermon a culmination of her week’s Bible study. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her mind told her it wasn’t fruitful to be so
focused on a mere man when her attention should be on God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her heart just wanted to concentrate on
Adrian and how he’d changed in the eighteen months since she’d last seen
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian’s
baptism was the first one after the sermon. An usher came to him at the end of
the sermon and took him to the back of the sanctuary while the music director
led them in hymns. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
was helped into the pool by the pastor, who’d left the podium about the same
time as Adrian left his seat to get dressed in the white baptismal garment he
wore now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pastor invited Adrian’s
friends and family to occupy the now empty choir seats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meg joined the exodus up the steps to the choir
seats and sat. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">While
she’d been witness to many baptisms, this one held a special place in her
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only because of how she felt
about Adrian himself, although that was a big part of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Rarely
did she see the fruits of her prayers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was sure it wasn’t only her prayers that had led to this day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even being a miniscule part of any person’s spiritual
life was rewarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It gave her the push
she needed to continue with her efforts, unseen by her though the results may be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She
was just thankful God had made it possible for Adrian to find her in time to
issue his invitation. </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the conclusion of the service, Meg joined Adrian’s
family for a special luncheon in the church’s reception room. It gave her the
perfect excuse to be around him a while longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
was more relaxed in this environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’d only seen him in his professor persona and never realized how
tightly wound he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seeing him
laughing and joking with his cousins showed her a completely different
man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Meg?” Adrian’s voice in her ear had Meg
turning toward him. “Will you walk with me outside?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes.”
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
held out his left arm and she put her hand on it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Once
they were outside, Adrian said, “Meg, I would like to court you.” Before she
could comment, he rushed on, as though to stop her from denying him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A biblical courtship. Not dating. A biblical
courtship with intent to marry.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Suddenly
the beautiful day had become much brighter. The sky much bluer, the sun shone
warmer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flowers seemed to glow
brighter, their fragrance sweeter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I know I treated you badly —”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Try
horribly,” Meg teased. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Very
well, I know I treated you horribly when you were my student. But my only
excuse is I could think of no other way to spend some time with you without
making my preference apparent to everyone.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
thought you didn’t like me.” His words reminded her of the conflicting
emotions, fascination and dislike, she’d had to deal with at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But it all turned out for the best.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“The
best? How can you say that?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Well,
it was a great experience in terms of learning how to deal with criticism.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">After a while</i>, she mused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the time, she’d hated going into class,
knowing Adrian would find fault with something, anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Only
after she’d started working in the industry had she realized how invaluable his
criticisms had been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d taught her to
work through her emotional response to rejection to look for workable solutions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of the reasons she was successful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her clients knew, no matter the problem,
she’d work with them to find a solution that pleased both parties. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe
so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was still badly done on my
part. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” Adrian looked so wretched Meg didn’t
have the heart to tease him about this. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I
forgave you a long time ago, Adrian.” He was as surprised as she at that
statement. She hadn’t realized it until now but she had forgiven him sometime
in the last eighteen months.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank
you.” Adrian’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly for the first time during
this conversation. “Will you allow me to court you, Meg?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
would like that.” Meg said, only a slight tremor in her voice giving away the
fact that on the inside she was jumping for joy in a very un-ladylike
fashion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adrian
stopped and turned towards her, his hands turned palms up. “Give me your
hands.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">After
Meg placed her hands in his, Adrian bowed his head. “Thank you, God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For your mercy and your grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bless us as we begin our courtship, that we
might bring glory to you throughout our lives. Amen.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Meg
echoed with “Amen” and grinned, unable to keep her joy contained any longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">THE END</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Thank you for reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last installment will be tomorrow. </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Happy Easter!</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">May God Bless you and keep you.</span></div>
</div>
MyKids'Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853191915705230089noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-5850947251262292682013-03-29T02:44:00.000-05:002013-03-29T09:26:05.623-05:00A Free Choice<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">A
Free Choice</span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">by</span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Aryadne Leone<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sorry to disturb your prayers, Reverend Mother…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The panic-tinged voice broke through her inner stillness,
bringing Mother Superior Eva-Luke crashing back to earth. Once more, the flesh
tugged at her, even as her spirit reached for liberation. She opened her eyes
and turned to the anxious young novice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes, Sister Ruth,” the Mother Superior replied in
well-modulated tones, lilted by a rich Southern accent. “What can I do for
you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The flighty teenaged nun-in-training was known to
catastrophize – something made less endearing by the many hardships of life in
a desert mountain outpost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Santa Fe, New Mexico, nested in the high valley of three
mountain ranges, was remote enough to ensure that few tended to come there
unintentionally. Yet the small, sleepy town was cosmopolitan enough to support
three distinct cultures: the Native Red Indians, who dwelled peaceably at their
fine Pueblos in this blessed land from time immemorial; the Hispanics, whose
ancestors once brutally subjugated the Pueblo peoples, but now bring art and a
flair for life; and the most recent arrivals, the Anglos, European immigrants
and their descendants who swarmed into the lands west of the Mississippi at
breathtaking speed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Fleeing war-torn Georgia after the devastation of the War
Between the States, Mother Superior Eva-Luke had sought peace in the desert.
But when the high mountain splendor alone could not relieve the pain of her
wounded heart, she asked for and received sanctuary with the Sisters of
Loretto, taking the veil as the alternative to her abandoned dream. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She gave her life to Christ twelve years ago of her own free
will, figuring she wasn’t doing anything better with it and He might as well
make good use of it. Her nimble wit and innate kindness made her a natural
leader and teacher for the young girls of the Academy of Our Lady of Light. It
did not take her long to rise in the ranks. Being indispensable was a most
effective way to remain distracted from the ghosts of what might have been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Yet, these days it seemed like it was one thing after
another. Burdened with multiple duties running both the convent and the girls’
school, it seemed Eva-Luke never got more than two minutes of solitude to
perform her morning devotions before she was called upon to solve some crisis.
While her position gave her a true sense of purpose and much satisfaction, she
longed to shed the heavy mantle of responsibility and perhaps retire to a quiet
hermitage in the desert somewhere...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The young novice eyed her uncomfortably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s that bum who’s been hanging around the chapel for the
last couple of days…” the girl began. “He doesn’t seem to be harming anyone,
but he stinks really bad. The sisters are all upset and don’t want to have
choir practice with him smelling up the place again. He’s been there for three
days already.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke sighed inwardly at the ridiculousness of the crisis
du jour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She remembered glimpsing the raggedy man in the back row of
the convent’s fine new chapel during mass. His tall, lean frame was stooped in
melancholy, his once-fine clothes in filthy tatters. At the time, she had
thought little of it, as the doors of Christ’s house are open to all, no matter
what they have done or where they have been. It was not the first time that men
down on their luck had sought shelter for body and soul in the calming
atmosphere of the gothic revival chapel. He had not appeared to be a threat
then, and did not seem one now. It seemed to her that the sisters were the ones
in error if they could not find compassion for this poor traveler who had
obviously seen better days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Very well, Sister Ruth,” Eva-Luke said with polished
Southern grace as she stood from her bent rosewood and leather chair before the
warm kiva fireplace. “I shall come see what I can do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A cool, crystalline blue sky greeted Eva-Luke as she stepped
into the dazzling morning sunlight, the mountains standing politely to the
east. Her heart soared at the freedom of the open sky, the sweet scent of pinon
filled her nostrils. Once again, she remembered why she endured the numerous
privations and hardships of the desert, so unlike the pampered plantation life
in which she was raised, where submissive slaves fulfilled her every wish. This
desert brought a peace to her soul that almost atoned for her past sins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">This is truly God’s Country</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">, she thought as she turned her steps
towards the graceful gothic chapel given to the Sisters of Loretto as a gift
from the influential Archbishop Lamy. The play of light and color delighted her
eyes and filled her soul with rapture for the natural beauty of this special
place: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">La Villa
Real de la Santa Fe de San Francisco de Assisi</i>, the Royal City of Holy
Faith of Saint Francis of Assisi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She squinted up into the bright light to watch a lone hawk
soaring above the scrubby pinon trees. The graceful spires of the small chapel
punctured the cobalt blue sky, reaching for heaven in a perfect harmony of
balance and beauty. She still thought of it as new, even though construction
had been completed almost five years before, and the miraculous spiraling
staircase to the choir loft finished some two years ago. As her gaze slid down
the golden limestone building, so like the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, she noted
the knot of black-habited women, milling in consternation outside the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Reverend Mother, you’ve got to do something about that bum!”
Sister Mary Job complained, as she rushed to the Mother Superior’s side. “The
stench is unbearable! You’ve got to get rid of him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tell him to take a bath,” offered Sister Constance
helpfully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Or better yet, to move along,” Sister Martha insisted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Now, why is a little sweat so distressing, Sisters?”
Eva-Luke asked, with equal measures of admonition and humor. “Has anyone
offered him assistance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The nuns fidgeted but none answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“This poor man is obviously in a state of spiritual and
physical need, and all you do is judge him. Is that how you would treat Our
Lord if he were that bum?” Eva-Luke challenged her Sisters to remember their
holy vows to treat all as they would their Lord and Savior.“Would the smell of
Our Lord revolt you so?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke shook her head sadly, opened the door and stepped
inside the sun-drenched chapel. Daylight poured through the tall clerestory
windows and imported stained glass. Walking past the dark gold helix of the
miraculous staircase to her right, the Mother Superior approached the huddled figure,
seemingly lost in prayer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As she breathed in, the back of the chapel was filled with
the spicy-pungent scent of the man, which seemed somehow familiar to her, not
at all disgusting. His manly scent was a bit stronger than what might be
expected in polite company, but given the desert remoteness of Santa Fe, it was
not entirely beyond the pale. Most of the Sisters were not from this area, and
were used to more refined standards of personal hygiene than were often
available in the wild west, especially for travelers. Yet now, he seemed in
obvious distress as she approached, his urgent whispers hushed in the vaulted
ceiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I am sorry to disturb your prayers, my son,”she began
quietly, as she slid onto the bench, near the kneeling man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You are no disturbance, Katie,” the man said in a rich
baritone voice, with a hint of a southern drawl. He raised his head and gazed
at her with blue eyes made brilliant by the angled light of the tall windows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke gasped at the name no one had called her in over
fifteen years…at the bonnie blue eyes she thought never to behold again. The
familiar face of her long lost beloved was still handsome, beneath the layers
of dirt and sweat, but creased with lines of care and humor she did not recall.
Silver threaded through his once black hair, and salted his unshaved jaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jacob?” she asked with a trembling voice. “Is it… Is it
truly you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He nodded slowly, his eyes drinking her in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke looked down awkwardly, fighting the unseemly impulse
to embrace the lover she had once wronged and thought dead these last two
decades. But when she looked up, it was with the cool, yet compassionate face
of Mother Superior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jacob Spencer… How is it that you have come here?” Her calm
voice belied the chaos erupting throughout her well-ordered inner world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I came here for you,” was his soft, yet hopeful reply. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her eyes grew huge as his simple words sunk in. Jacob always
went straight to the point – a characteristic she had both loved and deplored
in him. She always knew where she stood with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I didn’t know you had taken the veil until I after got
here,” he continued, gazing on her with sad, hungry eyes. “If I had, I would
not have presumed…I am sorry to have disturbed your peace, Katie. Knowing you,
I suspect it has been hard won. I should have left long ago, but I had to see
you…even if all my hopes were dashed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jacob…I scarcely know what to say! I was told you were dead,
killed in the war.” Her voice trembled, her heart racing, even as she struggled
for composure. “I never thought to see you again in this life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I know,” he admitted painfully. “After our last quarrel, in
which you defended our old Southern way of life, despite its unjust ways, I was
in such turmoil that I joined the Union Army. I fought against my own brothers
and cousins for what I believed was right: to free my fellow man. Although I
was gravely wounded in the war, I managed to slowly heal, even though the
doctors had written me off. It was the thought of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> that kept me
alive, Katie.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He paused to take a shakey breath before going on. “I went
back home to Atlanta after the war, thinking to find you and beg you to marry
me, despite the past, but you had moved off west. No one knew where you had
gone. So I made my way down to New Orleans, where I had fairly decent luck as a
building contractor. I made a fortune, but all was empty without you. I tried
to love other women, but none of them could hold a candle to you, my brilliant
Katie!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke allowed a small smile at his declaration, but
practiced self-control still held her boiling emotions in check. She searched
his dirty, unshaven face, seeking the young Southern beau who had courted and
won the heart of the southern belle she used to be… in another lifetime. The
quiver-thrill through her veins told her that her love for him lived still,
despite the years she tried in vain to forget him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Finally, I could not stand it anymore and resolved to find
you, despite our sharp disagreements, ” he explained, as his thumb
unconsciously caressed the engraved silver ring she had given him so long ago
as a token of her love. “I figured now that the war is long concluded, the
question of slavery should no longer be a dividing wedge between us. It took me
three years of constant searching to find you, but I had to know what became of
you. I expected you might be married, possibly even have a family, but I never
expected to find you the bride of Christ.” Anguish knit his fine brow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke looked to the white faux marble altar, stricken to
the core. She tore her eyes away before they could rise to the pale crucifix
above the altar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh Jacob! I was wrong…I was so wrong!” The words bubbled of
out her, unbidden. “You were the one in the right! It was wrong of me to defend
a way of life founded on the misery of others. You were right – I could never
have been happy knowing my joy was built on the pain and suffering of others. I
was a fool and did not know what I was doing. I have spent almost twenty years
trying to make amends for that horrible mistake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I knew you would see the truth someday,” Jacob told her with
an easy grin. “I am glad I am here to see it. You always had a good heart –
that’s what I so loved about you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Can you ever forgive my stupid pig-headedness?”she asked,
her whole body tingling inappropriately with his proximity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Of course I can,” he said, as he lifted her hand and kissed
it tenderly, as tears sparkled in his eyes. “If you can forgive me for
abandoning you so recklessly. I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh yes! I forgave you long ago,” she breathed, as she stared
deep into his eyes, realizing that this was the atonement that evaded her for
so long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“So, what comes next?” he asked intently, as he began to bend
closer to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Suddenly self-conscious, the Mother Superior removed her hand
from his warm grasp. Jacob straightened and cleared his throat nervously in the
long awkward pause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I don’t know,” she began. “My life is here, all of these
people depend upon me. I have responsibilities and commitments.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Of course,” Jacob soothed with accustomed Southern chivalry
masking his true feelings. “I understand. You have made your choice and I
respect that. Twenty years is a long time to wait for me… too long. I only
wanted to see you one last time in this weary life, to make sure you are happy…
and I see this life agrees with you. I would not dream of disrupting your
world. Even though you may be Mother Superior to everyone else, you will always
be my Katie.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke sat stunned as Jacob rose, picked up his dusty
knapsack and worked his way out of the pew. A war raged within her as he left
the sunlit chapel, his footstep echoing off the high gothic arches. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Two distinct futures loomed, her decision now would determine
the shape of her life to come. On the one hand, she could go on with her
accustomed busy routine, comfortably distracted and solving the problems of
others until she dropped. Here, she was doing God’s work, answering the call to
educate the young girls of this most unique of cities. But that meant trying to
forget Jacob all over again – a labor compounded by the knowledge that he not
only still lived, but also still loved her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Or she could choose a totally unknown future with this man
she had not seen for over twenty years, forsaking her responsibilities and her
vows. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What would
the Sisters say if Mother Superior ran off with the smelly raggedy man?</i> She
could imagine the dismay that would cause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Yet, Jacob’s return to her from the grave was nothing short
of miraculous. This man had been her one great love in her life, long assumed
forever lost, and never to be replaced. Whilst she might be useful and perhaps
even content in the habit of a nun, never would she know true fulfillment at
the convent, without the man of her dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Jacob or God: what a cruel choice! </span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Behind her, the sisters began filing in and ascending the
spiral staircase to the choir loft, with soft whispers and scuffling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eva-Luke turned her eyes to the pale crucifix above the
altar, then up to the deep-hued stained glass window. As her eyes fixated on
the multi-colored bits of glass, her embroiled spirit cried out for guidance.
Closing her eyes, she prayed fervently for an answer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus
tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.
Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis
nostrae. Amen.</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A wave of peace washed over her, as she turned within. The
small still voice within her assured that a loving God would never demand she
choose Him over her beloved Jacob. She need not forsake one to gain the other.
With a flash of insight, she realized that her vows to the Mother Church were
not the same thing as her devotion to God. The Lord’s Providence was sufficient
to allow her both to serve God and to have her heart’s dearest desire. She
would just have to figure out a new way to make her contribution. The world
suddenly seemed full of possibilities and miracles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She knew that her work at the convent was done, this chapter
of her life concluded. Her heart was ready for adventure, awaiting the
opportunity to try its wings. Opening her eyes to behold the airy chapel, she
realized that for the first time in over twenty years her heart was not
burdened. She was redeemed in Jacob’s forgiveness. She knew what she had to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She opened the door to Loretto Chapel and stepped out into
the brilliant sunlight. She turned and addressed the workman tending the nearby
hedges.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Carlos, did you see which direction that raggedy man went?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Hispanic groundskeeper stood respectfully to answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Si, Madre. It looked to me like he was heading to the
Plaza.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Gracias, Carlos. Please see to it that the leak in the roof
of classroom two gets fixed before this afternoon’s monsoon arrives,”she said
as she passed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She hurried her steps in the indicated direction, picking up
speed as she spied Jacob’s tall form a few blocks ahead of her. Reaching up,
she loosened the dark habit that had covered her wheat-gold hair for the past
twelve years and pulled it off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jacob! It’s me – Katie! Wait for me!” she called after him,
as he stopped and turned to face her with a surprised smile lighting up his
face. “I’m coming!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"></span></o:p></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><em><span style="font-size: small;">Please come back tomorrow for the next installment of "Within These Chapel Walls"</span></em></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Prairie Philosopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478392606476900547noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-54390909240840616512013-03-28T00:00:00.000-05:002013-03-28T00:00:00.123-05:00A Carpenter's Miracle<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A Carpenter’s
Miracle</span><br />
by<br />
Anna Kittrell</div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ouch! Son of a—” Zach ground his teeth,
bit back the word hovering on the tip of his tongue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“This looks amazing!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He spun around to see his sister
standing in the doorway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why the scowl?” she asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh, I don’t know, could be because I
almost nailed my thumb to this blasted crucifix.” He turned back around and pounded
his hammer on the rough timber.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Brenda stepped into the shed, her heels
clacking across the sawdust-covered floor. “You mean, cross.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Cross, crucifix—same thing,” Zach
mumbled around the wire nails jutting from his lips.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“There’s a difference,” she said,
walking up beside him. “A crucifix is a cross with a figure of Jesus affixed to
it.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Know it all,” Zach said under his
breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Brenda leaned in, kissed his cheek.
“You’re doing a fantastic job, little brother. The children’s Easter pageant
will be spectacular, thanks to your props. The church will enjoy them for years
to come.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach shrugged. “Glad to help,” he said,
only half meaning it. He was glad he could be there for his sister, family was
important to him. The church was a different story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What can I do to help?” Brenda asked,
picking up a level. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach took it from her, hooked it over a
nail in the wall. “I’ll finish up the big rock this evening—the stone that
seals up the tomb. Tomorrow you can stuff newspaper through the chicken wire
and paint it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sounds great. I’ll recruit Maggie to
help.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach clenched his jaw. Maggie was so
wrapped up in church, she might as well live there. Frustrating thing about it,
the woman was gorgeous. Long blonde hair, sky blue eyes and a body that’d turn
saint into sinner, just by looking. There wasn’t a baggy sweater or
ankle-length skirt invented that could conceal those curves. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What a waste</i>. She only had eyes for the
Lord.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t forget your birdfeeders!” Maggie
chased after a group of five to ten-year-olds. The paper-plate birdfeeders
looped over her arms swayed as she ran. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The kids burst into the parking lot,
headed for the church van in a dead run. “I’ll hold them for you until next
Sunday. Remember, His eye is on the sparrow!” she called from the foyer, and
then turned to walk back to her classroom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie loved working with kids. She’d
been called into children’s ministry when she was just a child herself. As she unwound the red yarn from her wrists, her mind wandered to the
little boy she’d seen in at the Loretto Chapel in New Mexico over twenty years
ago. He’d been praying, crying as though his heart would break. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In her dreams, she’d seen his face a
thousand times. She’d never forgotten how her soul yearned to comfort him that
day, to provide him with some type of shelter from the storm that rocked his
little world. Even now, that feeling continued to drive her, inspiring her to
do what she did best. That little boy had changed her heart forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hey, Maggie, how was class?” Brenda
asked, walking into the room, setting her Bible on the small half-circle table.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie smiled. “They were wild as March
hares today. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7540270324082475395" name="Save"></a>Spring must be in the air.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Let me help you with that,” Brenda
said, carefully tugging the yarn from Maggie’s wrist. “Zach’s finishing up the
props for the Easter pageant. Everything looks terrific. Tomorrow we finally
get to help him out.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I can’t wait,” Maggie said. “I’ve been
dying to see what he’s been doing in that little work shed. I could hear him in
there, hard at work again this morning, but didn’t dare peek.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Wise decision,” Brenda said. “My
brother is a bit of a grouch.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I get the feeling he doesn’t like me,”
Maggie said, hanging the birdfeeders on the doorknob.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s not you, Maggie, trust me. It’s everyone.
Zach has been bitter for most of his life. It gets worse when he’s around
church—which is exactly why I ask him to help out with projects around here as
often as possible. God is the reason he’s so miserable. Zach knows his heart
isn’t right with the Lord, and he’s fighting against that conviction. I’m
afraid it’s going to take a lot more of that holy misery for him to realize
it’s time to stop struggling and give his anger to God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“There you are.” Pastor James stepped up
to his wife, kissed her cheek. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maggie and I were just finishing up,”
Brenda said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “Thanks for the help.” Maggie grabbed
her sweater and followed the pastors from the church.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hellfire!” Zach stretched the front of
his t-shirt and held it to his throbbing finger. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Darned chicken wire had jabbed clean through.
This Easter project was going to kill him yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He turned his head toward approaching
footsteps. The door, propped by an old coffee can, eased open. He glared at the
high-heeled shoe forcing its way in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie stepped inside, arms filled
with newspapers. She dropped her gaze to his exposed abdomen then looked away, cheeks
reddening. “I’m sorry.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach checked the condition of his finger
then yanked his shirt back down into place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Uh, Brenda said I could get started on
the stone. I thought you’d already left.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You thought wrong,” he said, using
pliers to bend another length of wire. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie dropped the newspapers with a
loud bang. He turned, frowning, expecting to find her scrambling apologetically
to the floor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s your problem?” she asked, hands
on her hips.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">For the first time he could remember,
Zach was speechless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You heard me,” she said, daring to step
toward him. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you each time we’ve crossed paths,
to the point of offering you ice tea and sandwiches.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He tossed his pliers onto the workbench.
“And I don’t recall taking you up on it. So don’t be thinking I owe you
anything.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s exactly my point. Why won’t you
let me show you some kindness?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why? So you can chalk up some more
winning points for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jaysus</i>? Maybe even
‘win me to Christ,’ as you holy rollers like to say? No thanks.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s so wrong with someone wanting to
help direct you to the Lord?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach crossed his arms. “Okay, how about
this. If you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really </i>want me to
believe in that God of yours, let him know that I want a real live angel to
fall down from heaven, straight into my arms and sing Amazing Grace into my
left ear. Then, he’ll have my undivided attention.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie’s lip trembled, splashing a cold
bucket of regret all over Zach’s insides. He’d gone too far.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What about Brenda? Is she nothing but a
‘holy roller’ to you, too?” Her voice shook.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My sister knows where I stand,” he
said, yanking his jacket from the sawhorse, shrugging it on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh, and just where is that? On the
threshold of hell?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach couldn’t believe she’d said it. He flicked
his gaze over her angry face. Newspaper print darkened the tip of her button
nose, causing her to resemble a bunny. Adorable. He knew it wasn’t the look she
was going for. He’d like to lick his thumb and rub it off, plant a kiss she’d
never forget on those trembling lips… </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">No! What was he thinking? This girl was
a Jesus-freak. A miracle chaser, just like all the other church-goers. Just
like his mother had been.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie turned and left, slamming the
shed door behind her. The coffee can rolled, scattering rusty nails across the
floor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie gripped the steering wheel, her
breath tearing in and out. “I’m sorry, God. Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve really blown
it.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">How could she let him get the best of
her like that? Let him make her so angry? She’d worked with children for as
long as she could remember, without once losing her temper. Yet, there she’d
been, less than five minutes ago in the church’s work shed, acting like a child
herself. Worse than a child. Children had an excuse to throw tantrums. After
all, they were <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">children</i>. She, on the
other hand, was a grown woman. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christian</i>
woman, she reminded herself, wiping a tear. What she should’ve spoken softly in
love, she’d shouted in anger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She pulled into the driveway. For
several moments, she sat in silence debating whether she should drive back to
the church and apologize. Too embarrassed—or perhaps too proud—she just
couldn’t do it. She slid from behind the wheel and walked slowly to her front
door. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You can’t quit, the pageant is tomorrow
night!” Brenda narrowed her eyes at Zach, an expression he hadn’t seen since
they were kids.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I just did. Look, everything is
finished.” He swept his arms around the shed. “Surely that husband of yours can
drag it all over to the sanctuary and assemble it. Unless he’s afraid of
getting a splinter in his bible-thumping hand.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Brenda stiffened. “How dare you say that
about James. He’s bent over backwards to be kind to you since the day you first
met.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe I don’t want people to be kind to
me. Maybe I’m sick of it. Ever thought of that?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No. You’re uncomfortable with it,
little brother. There’s a big difference. The day Mom died, you turned your
back on the world. Worse, you turned your back on God.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach crossed his arms. “With good
reason.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Good reason—” Brenda let her head fall
back, gazed at the ceiling. “Zach, when Mom got sick, she took us to the
Loretto Chapel to help strengthen your faith, not turn you against God.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“She promised, Brenda. You heard her.
She said if we only prayed hard enough, we’d receive a miracle. I believed her.
I prayed and prayed and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">prayed</i>. Until
my voice was hoarse, until my shirt was drenched with sweat and tears, until my
freaking eyes were swollen shut, I prayed!” Zach clenched his shaking hands.
“And still, she died.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Brenda wrapped her arms around her
brother’s hitching shoulders, held him close. “I know, I know. But have you
ever thought, maybe Mom living wasn’t the miracle God had in mind? I got a
miracle that day at the Loretto Chapel, Zach. A miracle of a different sort.
Right there, beneath that miraculous stairway, I received Christ.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach took a ragged breath, released his
sister. “That only proves God loves you more. He locked me out of heaven the very
same day he let you in.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s ridiculous, little brother. He
loved you then, and he loves you now.” She kissed his cheek. “Will you please
stay? Just until the pageant is over. I want you to see how great the set
looks. Besides—do you really trust James to put everything together correctly?
Remember the time he helped you assemble the swing set in the children’s play
area?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach scrubbed a hand over his forehead.
“Okay. But as soon as that stone rolls away, so do I.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Johnny, please don’t do this now.” Maggie
placed her hands on the ten-year-old boy’s already broad shoulders, turned him
toward her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Everyone will laugh,” he grumbled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“No, they won’t. We’ve been over
this. I even showed you in the Bible, remember? Many angels were big, strong
males.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I won’t do it. You can’t make me!”
Johnny threw the angel costume at Maggie’s feet and darted down the hallway,
past the other children. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She picked up the robe, held it to her
shoulders. The costume would drag the floor on any of the other children. She
could picture one of them tripping over it and falling down onstage. Too late
to pin up the hem, there was only one thing left to do. She sighed and pulled
the robe over her head. “Rosie, will you please fasten my wings?” she asked the
six year-old standing beside her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Rosie giggled as Maggie dropped to her
knees so that the little girl could snap the elastic straps over her shoulders.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The set turned out pretty good, if Zach
did say so himself. Everything looked authentic. He was glad Brenda had talked
him into staying. No way it would’ve turned out that good if James had set the
stage. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The church was packed. He didn’t see an
empty seat anywhere. Then again, nothing drew a crowd like kids acting out
Bible stories.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He leaned on the wall, close to the
platform. Finally, the thing was drawing to a close. He’d been uncomfortable
for the duration—even turned his head and pretended to examine an air
conditioning vent as the Roman soldiers nailed Jesus to the cross. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><sup><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“</span></sup></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And, behold, there was
a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came
and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.”</span></i></span><span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> The narrator’s deep
voice boomed through the loudspeakers, sounding like God himself.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach looked up to see the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—a
real live angel—perched on his stone of newspaper and chicken wire. He blinked up
at the bright stage lighting, unable to believe the vision. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maggie looked down at him, eyes like sapphires, blonde hair
streaming around her angelic features. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His heart melted. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Just then the stone, which had already been rolled away, began
to roll some more. Maggie let out a little yelp as the giant boulder pitched
forward, bucking her over the platform. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Zach lunged, caught her in his arms then zagged to the side,
narrowly avoiding the monstrous stone that rolled down the center aisle like
something from Raiders of the Lost Ark. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like
me. I once was lost, but now I’m found. Was blind, but now I see.” Maggie sang
softly, and then placed a tender kiss on Zach’s left ear. “As a boy, did you
ever visit the Loretto <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chapel</i>?” she
whispered. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He set her gently down beside the altar, and then kneeled.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">Please tune in tomorrow for another miraculous tale of
faith! </span></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></i></b></div>
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></i></b>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07640927494533713230noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-83637214235649434282013-03-27T06:34:00.000-05:002013-03-27T08:30:00.180-05:00Love and War<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Love and War<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Callie Hutton<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Santa
Fe, New Mexico<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">August,
1919<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
Lawrence stopped a few buildings down from the Loretto Chapel and took a deep
breath. She chewed her lip in contemplation. This was not a good idea. Despite
Father Ryan’s assurances, she doubted coming face to face with Peter after all
this time would heal the anger in his soul. No. Her former fiancé despised her,
and with good reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The
church stood outlined against the crystal blue New Mexico sky. It had always
brought her comfort, especially during her darkest hours. The majestic rise of
the steeple and gothic design of the building itself brought a sense of calm to
her raging nerves. Wiping her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt, she
started forward. She would do this for Joey’s sake. No fear was too great that
she wouldn’t face it for him. Her resolve strengthened, she hurried forward,
now anxious to get the meeting over with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The
coolness of the church’s interior slid over her as she pulled on the heavy
wooden door. Familiar smells of candle wax and incense lured her in. The
well-known and miraculously constructed staircase to the left of the pulpit brought
visitors from all over the world. It was a peaceful place, soothing for both sinners
and saints alike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">When
Father Ryan had approached her about this plan, he’d told her Peter was doing
repairs to the church, apparently the only job he could obtain after returning
home. He’d been discharged from the hospital in Paris a few months after the
end of the Great War, missing one eye. After a long trek home, Peter discovered
his family home and property had been lost for taxes, and his family scattered.
The last she’d heard Mrs. Wilson had died of Influenza and Mr. Wilson now
resided with Peter’s sister, Jane, and her family in Texas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">How
he must hate her for what he considered her betrayal. Less than two months
after he left with the First Infantry Regiment, New Mexico National Guard, for
California, and then Europe, she’d married Russell Lawrence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Good,
kind, Russell. Old enough to be her father, but so protective of her. He’d made
it clear from the start that he would always take care of her, and not allow
anyone to disparage her. The strength of his name and reputation had kept her
from being cast out of the community. Until the end of her days, she would
always remember his kindness. The small bouquet of flowers she placed on his
grave each week for the past few months was a pittance compared to what he’d
done for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
slowly made her way up the aisle, her eyes darting back and forth in the cool
dimness, seeking the man she still loved with all her heart. Her breath caught
when she spotted him on his knees, examining a church pew. The sun peeking
through an open window that bathed his profile brought a rush of emotions,
almost choking her. His brown and golden hair was long, tucked carelessly behind
his ears. The strong chin, straight nose and high cheekbones were as familiar
to her as her own face. How she’d loved his face. For years. From the time they
were children, until she kissed him goodbye as he went off to war.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">No.
She’d continued to love him even after he’d left, and served his country
overseas. Now he’d returned a wounded warrior. Her warrior. She drank in the
sight of him, sure that once she made her presence known he’d likely snarl at
her and stalk off. He turned, perhaps aware of someone watching him, and she
gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A
black patch covered one eye, but aside from that, the rest of him looked
perfect. Strong muscular chest, solid arms, the lower part exposed from where
he’d rolled up his sleeves. Without conscious effort, tears flooded her eyes.
She gripped her hands together, attempting to stop the shaking. Her muscles
ached from holding her body stiff, preventing her from rushing forward and
throwing herself into his arms. “Peter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Slowly,
he climbed to his feet, a flicker of something warm and loving skimmed over his
face before his features froze into a mask, and any love she’d gotten a glimmer
of, shut off, turning his expression to stone. Cold stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Well,
well. If it isn’t Jezebel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out. Although she’d
expected it, hearing his deep voice condemning her cut her heart into little
slivers. Oh, how she must disgust him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
heard you returned a few weeks ago.” Her shaky voice barely rose above a
whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
placed the tools he held on the bench and crossed his arms. “And now you’re
here to chastise me for not running to you right off? Why? Is your bed too cold
now that your <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">husband</i> is dead?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">If
he’d walked up to her and slapped her, it wouldn’t have hurt as much as his
words and obvious loathing. Her mouth dried up, and she fought the urge to turn
and race from the building. From that condemning face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
swallowed bile, and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about your eye.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
shrugged. “Very few returned from the war the way they left.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are
you well otherwise?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
placed his hands on his hips. “Why are you here, Deanie?” When she didn’t
answer him, he continued, “If it’s to tell me how sorry you are, and spurt
sympathy over my injury, you can leave now.” He bent and picked up a hammer. “I
have work to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
moved closer. “I thought since we both live in the same town, we could at least
be friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">We could at least be friends.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Either
somewhere along the line he’d missed how cruel she was, or she’d lost the
intelligent mind he remembered. He and Deanie had been friends for years before
they declared their love for one another. They’d become engaged, and then he’d
been called to war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Memories of their few
nights together had been what kept him going all the lonely months in foxholes,
praying for the Good Lord to spare his life so he could return to her. But to
learn after he’d returned that she’d married someone else merely weeks after
he’d left had cut him like no amount of agony the battlefield could have
delivered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Despite
the knife turning in his heart, he laughed. A brittle sound from deep inside,
not meant to provide humor, but to remind him that even though he still loved
this woman, he’d never let her know. Never give her the opportunity to rip his
world apart once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ah.
I don’t think we could be friends. I don’t generally allow my friends to
deceive me.” He cringed, wishing the words back. The last thing he wanted was
for Deanie to know how deeply she’d hurt him. How she could give him her love
so freely, promise to wait forever for his return, then walk down this very
aisle with Russell Lawrence before the dust from his retreating army boots had
cleared the air? No. It was best to end the conversation before he acted on
this overwhelming desire to ask <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">why</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m
sorry.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
closed his eyes, not wanting to see the tears running down her cheeks. To watch
her hands twist the fabric of her skirt, hear the catch in her voice. His arms
ached to hold her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
gripped the hammer harder. “As I said. I have work to do. Father Ryan is
expecting these repairs to be made.” He turned and headed toward the side door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You
have a son. Joey.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Although
the words were soft, they bounced off the walls of the church, entering his
ears like the beating of a drum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A son?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">If
she’d intended to stop him in his tracks, success was hers. He lost his breath
as if someone had sucked out all of the air from the room. Slowly numbness melted
into anger, and then to a spark of joy. A son. He took a deep breath before
pivoting to face her. “I left you with a child?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
nodded, and wiped her wet cheeks with shaky fingers. Peter reached into his
pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. He moved closer and held it out to her. Her
soft skin as it brushed his hand sent heat spiraling throughout his body.
Closer now, with the sunlight streaming through the window, he got a good look
at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She’d
matured from the girl he’d left behind. Her face was fuller, her body more
lush. Did childbirth do that to a woman? But the deep blue eyes were the same.
He’d always felt she could see right to his very soul. He mentally shook
himself. She’d just uttered words that rocked his world, and here he was
admiring her. Perhaps the brain’s way of dealing with shock. Focus on something
else, holding at bay all the emotions getting ready to slam into you full
force, like a boulder bouncing on the mountain above you, about to crush you
under its weight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why
should I believe any child of yours is mine?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
took a step back, her face the color of new snow. She hugged her middle,
tensing as if to take flight, but then stiffened her spine and raised her chin.
“You are the only man I’ve ever been with.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The
laugh burst forth before he even realized it. A bitter, harsh sound; totally
mirthless. “I’ve been back a few weeks, Deanie. People talk. I know you were
married for more than two years.” He tugged his fingers through his unruly
hair. “Are you trying to tell me Russell Lawrence never came to your bed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
shook her head. “That was our deal.” This was all wrong. Peter didn’t believe
her, and since the town had accepted Joey as Russell’s son, he might never be
convinced. And Joey would never know his father. The wonderful man who stood
before her, radiating hurt. Hurt that she’d caused. “I feel a bit shaky. Is it
all right if I sit for a minute?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
nodded, but didn’t join her on the church pew. Instead, he walked in circles,
his head down, his hands on his hips. “So what is this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">deal</i> you had?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
wiped the sweat beading her upper lip and took a deep breath. “Not too long
after you left I discovered I was with child.” God, her voice didn’t sound like
her own. His pacing was making her more nervous than she already was. “Um.
Could you stop?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
came to an abrupt halt and studied her. “Sorry.” He cracked his knuckles and
sat alongside her, leaving enough distance that she almost felt the need to
shout.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“When
my parents discovered my shame, they threw me out.” Her eyes filled with tears
remembering the terror at being all alone with a child on the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why
didn’t you write to me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
did!” She took another deep breath to calm herself. Shouting wouldn’t get her
anywhere. “I did.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
studied her with narrowed eyes. “I never got a letter from you. Not the entire
time I was gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
reached out and touched his arm, grateful that he didn’t pull back. “I wrote
you every day for weeks. I prayed. I spent more time on my knees than I slept.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“How
did Lawrence become involved?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
was staying in the back of the old Benson dry goods store. Sadie at the café
let me wash dishes for meals.” Slowly all the fear and desperation of that time
returned, releasing a torrent of tears to course down her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
moved closer. “Go on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
was so scared.” She shook her head. “I even considered. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
licked a tear from her upper lip. “One morning I came here, to the church, and
asked Father Ryan for guidance. I was close to. . .” She shuddered. “But I
never would have. I could take my own life, but not that of my baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
reared back at her confession, all the blood leaving his face. His anger melted
with the vision of a desperate young woman, with no home, no husband, and no
way to support herself, and a child on the way. He inched even closer, and
covered her tightly fisted hands with his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Father
Ryan told me to pray and return the following day. I spent hours on my knees,
praying for a miracle. The next morning as I entered the chapel, Russell was sitting
right here in this pew. Father Ryan left us alone, and that’s when I found
peace for the first time since you’d left.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As
she told her story, her body seemed to ease. He found himself rubbing her
knuckles with his thumb, pleased to feel her ice cold hands warming. “And?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Russell
explained that Father Ryan had spoken to him of my trouble. He didn’t judge me.
He said if I would allow it, he’d be honored to have me as his wife, and claim my
baby as his own child.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His
eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Why would he do that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
shrugged. “He is—was—a wonderful man. He’d buried his wife years before, but
was tired of being alone. He wanted someone to share the remaining years of his
life, and was thrilled at the idea of having a child to leave his hardware business
to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
fought a wave of guilt that almost brought him to his knees. How could he have
ever thought Deanie would betray him? His hurt and anger had consumed him,
causing him to push away the one woman he’d always loved, and would always
love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Russell
explained that he wouldn’t expect me to be his wife in truth, since he was so
much older than me, and all he wanted was companionship.” She turned to him,
fresh tears standing in her eyes. “I loved him. So much.” She shook her head. “Not
like I love. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
cupped her chin, and turned her face toward him. “Not like you love...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
glanced away from him. “Anyway, I just wanted to explain, hoping to ease some
of your pain.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I was hiding in foxholes or on
the move from the time I left until the war ended.” He turned his head to look
at her. “That’s probably why I never received any of your letters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I
understand.” She nodded and stood, brushing off her long black skirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Mama!”
The small voice echoed throughout the church, sending chills down Peter’s
spine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He
continued to stare straight ahead, listening to the sound of small feet toddling
up the aisle. Until now it had all seemed unreal. Once he turned, he’d face the
small boy who would change his life forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Peter
glanced to the side when Deanie grunted as a small body hurled itself into her
arms. “Mama. Cookie!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Unable
to stop himself, he twisted his neck and stared at the image of himself in the worn
photograph he’d carried in his pocket for years. He and his twin sister, Jane,
him grinning, and her looking very much the little lady. His breath left him as
if a powerful fist had punched him in the stomach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Joey?”
His voice rasped, and he licked his dry lips. “Isn’t that your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The
little boy ducked his head against his mother’s chest, and slid two fingers
into his mouth. “Yeth.” Light brown curls, golden at the tips in the sunlight
from the window, covered the child’s head. Two chocolate brown eyes he’d seen
in his own mirror for years stared back at him with curiosity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His
gaze left Joey’s, and he regarded Deanie. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she
hugged the small body to her and rocked him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Within
seconds Peter stood and wrapped his arms around his family, the baby scent of Joey
and flowery scent of Deanie enveloping him. He hugged them close, never wanting
to let go, not even embarrassed to have his tears fall on Deanie’s hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A
soft cough brought their attention to the old priest who stood behind them, his
blue eyes twinkling with mirth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And
sure it’s time for me to make a suggestion, lass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
nodded, her head resting against Peter’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Would
you be after me going for a couple of witnesses so we can get on with the
wedding I’m sure you’re both wanting?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
lifted her head, and looked at Peter, love glowing on her face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Deanie
Lawrence, I’ve loved you forever, and don’t want to spend another minute
without you. Would you grant me the privilege of becoming my wife?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She
rested her hand on his cheek. “I’ve never stopped loving you, either. And I
would be honored to be your wife.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Me
wife, too?” Joey looked back and forth between his parents, a frown on his small
forehead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Deanie
and Peter both laughed and hugged their little boy as Father Ryan hurried from
the church, mumbling a thankful prayer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">~ The End ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Be sure to stop in tomorrow for the
next story in our Inspirational series. Thank you so much for joining us today.
<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
Calliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08109239327871560240noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-80604954319907258682013-03-23T18:39:00.000-05:002013-04-22T16:13:38.323-05:00WITHIN THESE CHAPEL WALLS<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQONELo9a75KRsksNKmedorYPn1hh-U6OCBNLZTCRolOxpJrRXQpJ8eN_Ktb7AlUH4ECqgWBy8zUyJ4IIRFzYcP0LPd2_s6kR0olxcU0e4lJ98RmrXTVkLDhbLmdfNlwrLXz6dLjYy9LI/s1600/%236--untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQONELo9a75KRsksNKmedorYPn1hh-U6OCBNLZTCRolOxpJrRXQpJ8eN_Ktb7AlUH4ECqgWBy8zUyJ4IIRFzYcP0LPd2_s6kR0olxcU0e4lJ98RmrXTVkLDhbLmdfNlwrLXz6dLjYy9LI/s200/%236--untitled.png" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-small; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-small; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-small; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Loretto Chapel, with its beautiful Gothic exterior rising to the sky,
and mystery staircase inside. What draws people to it? Does it work ‘miracles’
for some? Bring love for others? Find out as the Oklahoma Romance Writers
begin their next series, <i>“Within These Chapel Walls</i>,” starting
with <em>Love and War</em>.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "JasmineUPC","serif"; font-size: 28pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-31143352225126729262013-03-17T01:00:00.000-05:002013-03-21T04:57:20.572-05:00Rainbow's End<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: large;">RAINBOW'S END</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Christy
Gronlund<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aiden
passed a pint to the old man sitting at the bar. Gnarled fingers latched onto
the mug. Aidan barely heard the muttered <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thank
you</i>. His focus was on the six gold coins laying on the bar. It had taken over
two hundred years to figure out the key to retrieving his gold. The answer was
so simple he should have reasoned it out long ago. He snapped a rag from the
rack and wiped down the counter with more force than necessary.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Careful
there, fella.” The man at the counter took another sip from his pint. “Don’t
wanna worry a hole in this fine piece of wood, do ye?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aidan
glared at the shriveled up troll. His grey eyes were too big for his face. His
nose crooked down in a severe angle while his thin lips spread into a large
toothy grin. An unfortunate combination of features, yet the face was kind. Aidan
bit down a nasty retort and swung the towel over his shoulder. “No, ye’re right.
I’m a bit preoccupied.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Of
course I’m right, Aidan.” The old man chortled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Do
I know ye?” Aidan peered closer, trying to detect a bit of glamour but found no
haze around the old man. There was nothing familiar about his patron, but his
magic had been stretched beyond the point of usefulness during his matchmaking
activities.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yer
the bartender, aren’t ye? Everyone knows your name. You can call me Odin.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Right.”
That made sense, but a quiver of anticipation sparked through him. He looked
back at the coins carelessly strewn across the counter. Naked. Vulnerable. With
a flick his fingers, Aidan cast a charm of protection. Magic fled his body,
leaving fatigue in its wake. His magic was almost gone. He didn’t have enough
to unite the next couple. That meant he wouldn’t get the seventh coin. Without it,
he couldn’t summon the rainbow. He placed his hands against the edge of the counter.
He was close. So close. To wait another year would kill him. Now that he knew
his way back home, one more year would pass longer than the hundreds he had
already endured as a banished leprechaun.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Don’t
look so down, lad.” Odin patted his arm. “Nothing is as bad as you imagine.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I
don’t know. I can imagine terrible things.” A hard edge tinged his words. It
was bad enough he had been sent to this arid desolate place when he lost his
pot of gold. To never see his homeland again was unthinkable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Odin
lifted his eyebrows. “You need to find yerself a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In
spite of the dismal future looming before him, a laugh escaped Aidan’s lips.
“Thanks for the advice, but a mere girl won’t solve me problems. Can I get you
anything else?” He pulled the towel from his shoulder and wiped the counter
more vigorously than before. Bent fingers grasped his arm. He regarded the
man’s earnest expression and stopped scrubbing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Let
me give one small piece of wisdom. A girl is always the answer. Love will show
you the way.” With that strange sentiment, Odin plopped a single coin onto the
bar. “Remember that, my friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aidan
slipped the money into his hand, letting the weight settle in the center of his
palm. A tingle of recognition bolted up his arm. “How did you. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But
Odin had vanished. Aidan stared at the recently vacated spot puzzling over his
good fortune, then back at the coin. He held the last and final piece. Now his
gold would call to him. He closed his eyes and waited for the airy pan pipe
music to filter back into his awareness. But all he heard was the faint tingle
of the bell over the pub door<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aidan
opened his eyes. A petite woman stepped into his bar, her dark green skirt blown
backward by a breeze that didn’t exist. Long curls of red dropped passed her
waist. A slender finger gracefully hooked a loose tress behind her ear. Her
eyes were the color of a deep ocean filled with depths he longed to lose
himself in. She sauntered up to the counter, her eyes never wavering.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You
need to find yerself a girl.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I
believe I found meself one.” His hand flew to his chin, verifying his jaw
hadn’t dropped to the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
placed those delicate hands on the counter never uttering a word. She smelled
like heather and sunshine. Like home. A wave of vertigo came over him forcing
him to steady himself against the bar. As he did, his fingers grazed the gold
coins. The sensation sent a jolt of panic through him. He quickly slid the
coins from the surface into his pants pocket. Her gaze followed his movements
resting on his pocket before she locked eyes with him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Can I get ye something?" His
strained voice barely audible.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Her
lips curved into a broad smile. "Aye, surprise me."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
sat upon a stool with an amused air. He sized her up a moment. She was a woman
who liked a deep rich brew. A stout. He filled a stein with the dark foaming
liquid and set it before her. And waited. She was here for a reason. He could
sense it like clouds gathering for a spring thunderstorm. She sipped the beer
regarding him steadily over the rim of the mug. But, alas, said nothing more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Annoyed,
Aidan turned back to the task of wiping the counter surface. At this rate, he
really would wear it down to nothing. He was half way along the counter when he
felt a tug at his pants. He grasped his pocket. The gold pulsed beneath his
palm. With a slither, one of the coins emerged and floated toward the woman's
waiting hand. He pulled it out of the air shoving it back into his pocket with
the others.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Are
ye after my gold, then?" He swallowed. A sour burn snaked its trail down into
his gullet. He bit back the bitter taste as his heart constricted to the size
of a pea. She wanted his gold. Not him. He compressed his lips. Why that should
bother him so much, he couldn't fathom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Nay,
’tis my gold." She said with too much certainty, <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It
was you?" Aidan tossed the towel away and covered the space between them
in two short strides. He leaned in so close their noses almost touched. Ignoring
the dizzying effect her scent inundated him with, he said. "I want me pot
of gold back, wench."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">***<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"You
were stripped of the right to claim that gold the minute you let a human defile
its contents." Jenna O'hare scrutinized her adversary. He was thin with
just enough muscles to fill out shoulders at a huggable breadth. Wiry brown
hair that refused to be tamed crowned his head. Deep emerald eyes glinted with
a sharpness that sent a strange thrill through her. Here was a man who knew how
to satisfy his needs. Compelling every female he encountered to submit to his
desires. La, apparently, she was no exception. Her eyes traveled to the hidden coins.
She noticed the slight bulge just to the right of them. If only he wasn’t her
enemy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I
have suffered through years of exile for that error." He pounded his fist
against the oak, disturbing glassware in the process. "But ye couldn't ’ave
failed to notice that the coins returned to me not you."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Is
that right?" She wrapped her fingers around her mug. Within the depths of
his green eyes burned a passion that went far beyond his anger at having his
gold filched from beneath his very nose. "Then how do you explain my
presence at the exact time you had collected them all." <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I
puzzled out how to retrieve them. Ye aren't here to take them back." With
a flick of his wrist he busied himself resetting the toppled glasses, but she
knew his attention remained on her. That knowledge wasn't unpleasant. As her
eyes drifted back to the gold, she wondered what would happen if she reached deep
into his pockets for the coins. Her skin tingled at the thought. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"So
sure of yerself are ye?" She jumped off her stool and swung underneath the
staff entrance. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Get
out of here." Aidan tried to shoo her away but she stood her ground,
inching closer to him until his back was against the cash register. She placed
her arms on either side of him pressing against his chest. Her pulse quickened
as his breath rose and fell in ragged gasps, uncaring that his presence
distracted her from her purpose. She would enjoy his proximity a moment longer.
She trailed a finger up his arm allowing the warmth to spread through her
entire being. She gazed up at him through hooded lids. "This is nice,"
she whispered. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
shook his head slowly, gently pushing her aside, cooling the heat between them.
"Quit muddling the issue."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
sighed accepting the inevitable. She crossed her arms and leaned against the
counter. "I'm Jenna the leprechaun. That's what I do."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">***<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Sure
ye are." Aidan headed into the open area clearing off vacated tables as he
went. It wasn't his job but he needed to clear his head. Jenna's nearness made
it difficult to solve the problem of getting his property back. After over two hundred
years, reuniting with his pot of gold was long overdue. He had all seven coins
so he didn't need Jenna. Or did he?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
glanced in her direction. She stood poised shamelessly behind the bar watching
him without bothering to hide it. Her grin broadened at his attention. What was
it about her he found so captivating? To be sure, she was the first leprechaun
he had seen in a long time. But it was more than that. Her inner essence glowed
sending out an aura full of red, orange, green, yellow, blue, indigo and
violet. All the colors of the rainbow. All the colors of home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
narrowed his eyes on her. If she had his gold then why was she here? Mayhap <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> needed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him</i>. He dropped the plates he carried on a nearby table and turned in
her direction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Miss
me?" She quirked an eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Tell
me lass." He descended upon her with more confidence than when she’d first
arrived—strange —he was no longer sure his fortune was more important than her.
"How are ye enjoying my pot of gold?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Immensely,
thank you." She blew an errant strand of hair off her face. He resisted
the urge to wrap it around his finger.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Then
I’m supposin’ yer need for these seven is nil."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Her
eyes grew wide. "Oh, but I do need them."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A
low chuckle burst from his chest. "I'd wager, ye haven't even seen my
gold."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
bowed her head, drawing clover leafs with her fingers on polished wood. "I
don't know what you're talking about."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
lifted her chin until deep blue eyes gazed into his. "I think ye do."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
didn't move. He reveled in the sudden stillness, closing the distance between his
lips to hers. The surge of electricity that followed energized every nerve
ending in his body. How he longed to stay in that pose for eternity. But he had
to be sure of her. Had to know she felt the same. His pulse quickened as he
thought of the risk he was taking but he had to know. He forced himself away from
her and pulled the coins from his pocket. They plopped on the counter with a
clank.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Let
love light the way." He walked away hoping he was right. The worst that
could happen was being exiled right where he was. He shrugged. If that was the
absolute worst when he desired so much more, then what did it matter?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">***<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jenna
watched Aidan walk away. A mixture of relief and disappointment filled her. Her
lips still tingled from their kiss. Her breathing still ragged, obstinately
refusing to return to normal. She almost shouted after him until the lure of
the gold took over. This was the moment she would gain access to the elusive
pot of gold. Ownership didn't guarantee the ability to summon the rainbow. She
needed all the coins to do that. With one last glance over her shoulder, she grabbed
the coins and ran out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although
it was well into evening, the sun blinded her as she stepped onto the rocky
terrain the natives called western landscaping. No matter, soon she would be
home to the velvet green pastures of Ireland. She ignored the hollow ache in
her heart and the niggling voice telling her it wasn't enough. She entered a
clearing and raised her fist clasping the gold in the air. She closed her eyes
waiting for the gold to call. Her arm went numb and still she waited until it
felt like lead weighing her down. She massaged her arm attempting to find the
reason she couldn't hear the music of the gold.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Can't
do it, can ye?" Aidan stood in front of her his arm crossed, his smirk mocked
her impotence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What
did you do to them?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Nothing.
For a leprechaun, ye don't appear to know much about me pot of gold."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What
do you mean?" A fog descended on her mind. He stepped so close she could
feel his breath. She leaned in catching the scent of spices and mint. "You're
the one who lost it. I doubt you know much more."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His
grin was so maddening she wanted to wipe off—or kiss it away. The thought
caught her by surprise. "Aye, it took me some time to figure it out. Then
I realized seven coins were taken on the heels of love."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I
don't understand."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
cocked his head to one side, those emerald eyes regarding her with amusement
and something else. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hope</i>? "Love
bound the coins when Finn and his lass, Lady Allison, declared their affection.
With every couple that has found love these past few days, I’ve retrieved one
coin. I’ve one left, the seventh."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"But,
I have them all." She opened her hand. "If they're all here the curse
has to be broken." <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
shook his head. She steeled herself. How could this man be so daft?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"There's
one last couple to unite."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Who?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
didn't answer. Instead, he stared at her with a huge grin on his handsome mug. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Am
I missing something?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
took hold of both her arms squaring her before him. "I was given the
seventh coin when Finn and Lady Allison found them. The seventh coin belonged
to me."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
froze processing this bit of information. If she followed his logic accurately,
that would mean...a heady giggle bubbled up inside her. "You mean?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I
love ye Jenna. What I need to know is if ye love me, as well."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She
flung herself into his arms. "Yes. I do." A surge of joy rushed
through her veins followed by a grand sense of relief <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
kissed her raising his hand to the sky. The rainbow of colors engulfed them in
a splash that melded at the ground shooting buttery golden light back up in response.
Amidst the center their pot of gold gleamed. Together Aidan and Jenna stepped into
the fold.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Let's
go home."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A
small wrinkle furrowed her forehead. "What about your bar?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Don't
worry, ’tis left it in Ciara's capable hands."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 115%;">~ The End ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p>
</o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #385723; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #385723; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;"><strong><span style="color: lime;">Happy St. Patrick’s Day!<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
<span style="color: lime;">
<strong>
</strong></span><div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><span style="color: lime; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #385723; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">From </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: lime;"> </span></strong></div>
<span style="color: lime;">
<strong>
</strong></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #385723; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #385723; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;"><strong><span style="color: lime;">The Wildokie Writers<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br /></div>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you, everyone for stopping by to read our St. Patrick's Day stories. We hope you enjoyed.</span></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stay tuned for our Inspirational series coming soon.</span></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11243980475958727132noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-45926918272878865062013-03-16T01:00:00.000-05:002013-03-16T02:04:44.762-05:00A Matter of Luck<!--StartFragment-->
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><strong>A Matter of
Luck<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">
<strong>
</strong><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><strong>By <o:p></o:p></strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><strong>Heidi
Vanlandingham<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Work
was the last place Gavin Reid wanted to be at that moment. Where had the fun in
life gone? Maybe his mom was right. He needed to take some time off—let her run
the store and get out of Sedona, maybe even leave Arizona altogether. Frowning,
he realized his last vacation had been just after college when he took his
parents to Ireland. It had been the first and last vacation with his parents.
Two months later, his father had died from a heart attack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> The
small, antique, mantle clock on his desk chimed noon. As if on cue, his stomach
growled, reminding him he’d skipped breakfast. Pushing away from the desk, he
decided a beer and the daily special from the pub across the street was exactly
what he needed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Slipping
out of his office, he waited for his mother to finish with a customer. “Mom,
I’m running across the street to Finnagan’s for lunch. Would you like me to
bring you back something?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
offered a small smile but shook her head. “I’m not really hungry right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Gavin
frowned. “We’ve talked about this--you’ve lost too much weight, Mom. One good,
stiff breeze and you’ll be blowin’ in the wind.” His face scrunched up in a
pained grimace at his mother’s snicker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
reached up and patted his cheek then shooed him from behind the display
counter. “I love your terrible puns—now go get something to eat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
loved the old Irish bar. Hearing the trilling flute and lively dance tunes
always made him feel a bit lighter when he walked. As if his luck was about to take
a turn for the better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
made his way across the wavy floor, the old wood scarred and worn from
thousands of dancing feet over the years. Pulling himself up onto the tall bar
stool, he waited for Aidan, the crotchety bartender, to make his way down the
bar as he filled orders. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">In moments, Gavin’s Black and Tan ale appeared. Aidan
knew him well. He sipped the brew, appreciating the rich foam as he swallowed.
As he finished off the glass, a second one appeared, accompanied by his lunch.</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Standing
in the dim interior of the noisy pub, Ryanne McDonnell pulled in as deep a
breath as she could, drawing every scent she could into her lungs. The smell of
good Irish cooking and Guinness reminded her of home. She climbed onto the tall
wooden bar stool and gave the bartender her order. Glancing around the room,
she noticed the authenticity of the pub and tapped her feet in rhythm with the
lively music playing through hidden speakers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Gently
dropping her heavy bag to the floor, she raised her head just in time to grab
her plate as it flew toward her on the bar’s smooth wooden surface. Before she
could react, the snarling man grabbed her arm. His long fingers wrapped around
her wrist like a vice as he pulled her forward. The gold coin in her bracelet
glittered in its silver filigreed setting. She forced her gaze to his,
swallowing the frisson of fear when an evil smile curled his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Let
me go!” she hissed, wondering if he even heard her in the noisy pub, and jerked
her arm back. Neither the man nor her arm budged. Heart pounding, she struggled
to reclaim her arm. She only succeeded in bumping her neighbor’s broad back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Wha—Aidan!”
The stranger yelled. “What the hell are you doing? Let the lady go!” The man’s
voice sounded familiar, but before she could look up, another tug from Aidan
pulled her against the bar’s edge and knocked the breath from her lungs. The
stranger leaned across the bar and pried her arm from the bartender’s grip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Aidan,
what’s gotten in to you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> The
bartender muttered a response, but his accent was too heavy for her to
understand a word. Rubbing her wrist, more for comfort than from pain, she
jumped when she felt the stranger’s gentle touch as his hand cupped her elbow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Are
you all right? Did Aidan hurt you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> The
man’s familiar baritone voice washed over her. “Gavin?” She raised her head,
her eyes wide and bright. The worried face staring back at her had aged but he
was still magnificent. He wore his rich chocolate brown hair longer than she
remembered, the ends curling at the base of his neck and over his ears. His
eyes were as clear and blue as the Arizona sky. He was so much more than she
could ever have dreamed. “It <i>is</i> you.”
Her hesitant smile quickly spread as his expression shifted from worry to
recognition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Gavin
couldn’t believe Ryanne McDonnell was actually sitting next to him. Long-buried
emotions slammed him like a tidal wave. His mouth opened and closed like a
codfish. Mentally giving himself a shake, he shut his mouth and forced his hand
drop away from her elbow to rest against his thigh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Ryanne?”
He’d always known she would be the beauty of the family but the woman sitting
next to him looked gorgeous. Streaked with golden blonde highlights, her red
hair draped around her heart-shaped face to perfection,<u> </u>the ends kissing
the top of her shoulders. Long lashes framed brilliant kelly green eyes. From
what he could see of her figure, it was full in all the right places, making
certain parts of his body jump to attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
ignored the sharp twinge in his chest. He clenched his hands into tight fists,
swallowing a couple of times as his just-devoured sandwich threatened to make a
very nasty reappearance. Too many memories hurdled over one another, trying to
escape the barrier he’d imprisoned them in. Screeching tires. Metal thudding
flesh. Flashing lights. Sirens. Silence. His high school girlfriend in her
casket. Regan. Ryanne’s older sister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
stumbled to his feet and turned to leave. Ryanne’s small hand grabbed his arm.
He pressed his toes against the hard soles of his shoes like tree roots holding
him in place as he waited for her anger and grief—waited for the tongue-lashing
he’d run away from all these years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Gavin.”
Her voice, so much like Regan’s, cut him in two. “Please stay. I know you don’t
want to hear what I need to tell you, but I’m begging you—stay. If not for me,
then for Regan. She wouldn’t have wanted things to end the way they did. None
of us wanted that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
scrubbed a hand over his face, exhausted physically and emotionally. He’d known
for a long time now that he had to let go of his past, but how was he supposed
do so? He was the reason Regan died. But he couldn’t walk away from Ryanne. He
closed his eyes, dropping his head in acquiescence. He walked to an empty
table, pulled a chair out for her, and helped her scoot up to the table. Just
as he’d done her entire life. Sitting across from her, he met her green eyes.
They sat in silence while the barmaid placed their unfinished lunches in front
of them though neither felt like eating anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Why
did you leave after the funeral? You never even said goodbye.” Her voice was
quiet, barely a whisper in the loud din going on around them. But he heard her
clearly, as if they were alone in the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
let out a long breath and fiddled with his fork. “I don’t know, Ryanne. There
were so many reasons back then. Now. How could I face your mom and dad? You?
You had just buried your sister and it was my fault—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Gavin
Reid! Stop it. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. The crash was ruled an
accident. My sister wouldn’t have blamed you and neither did we. You were part
of our family and your leaving hurt almost as much as losing Regan,” she
paused, counted to two, and added, “You had no idea a cow was trying to commit
suicide on that road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Gavin
stared at her, trying to keep a straight face. He’d forgotten Ryanne’s weird
sense of humor and welcomed it now like a gift. Unable to keep the grin off his
face, he shook his head at her. “Really? A suicidal cow? That’s all you could
come up with?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Ryanne
snorted. “Well, it made you smile didn’t it?” She pushed her plate of food
toward the center of the table and motioned to one of the barmaids to place an
order. A few minutes later, an Irish coffee steamed in front of her and Gavin
cupped his Black and Tan between his hands. Blowing on the hot liquid, she took
a small sip, enjoying the creamy warmth that helped calm the fast-paced
thudding in her chest. She placed the glass mug on the table. She had questions
to ask and she’d waited long enough. “How have you been? And your parents? When
their letters stopped, Mom and Dad assumed they moved again. Why did you never
bother to even write?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
downed the last of his beer and wiped his mouth, tucking the napkin underneath
the edge of his empty plate. “I’ve been fine. Morenci wasn’t the same after--.
Besides, I never wanted to work at the mine. As you know, Phelp’s Dodge was
pushing for our land. Dad was more than ready to retire. Two years ago, Dad
died. Mom—well, she can’t let him go. What about you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
sighed. “Pretty much the same thing. I hated living there. The mine reminded me
of what’s been lost. About a month or so after your parents moved, the mine
told the rest of us to leave. Mom and Dad live Payson.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Gavin
glanced at the clock behind the bar and groaned. Leaning forward, he grabbed
Ryanne’s hand and asked, “I have to get back to work, but would you like to
meet me for supper?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
nodded and gave him a huge smile. “I would love to.” She scribbled her cell
number down on a napkin and handed it to him. “Call me at this number and I’ll
meet you. I have a few places to go this afternoon and don’t know how long it
will take me.” She handed him the napkin and watched as he walked to the
register at the end of the bar. After paying, he carefully folded the napkin in
half and tucked it in his wallet then left the pub. Disappointed he hadn’t
looked back, she made her own way toward the register. Digging through her
purse for money, she didn’t notice Aidan standing behind the counter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Gavin
paid for ya, cailín.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Startled,
she glared, not caring how much he scared her. “Why did you grab my wrist
earlier?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
shrugged his thin shoulders. “Ya have somethin’ o’ mine and I’d be wantin’ it
back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Ryanne
frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She raised her arms and
looked down at her body. “I bought everything I’m wearing and carrying. The
only thing I didn’t buy was my bracelet. I made it from my sister’s lucky
coin.” Her gaze speared his. “I have nothing of yours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
smiled. It was not a nice smile and made her step backward. “’Twill see ’bout
that, cailín. The future will be tellin’ us who has the right of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">~ ~
~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Ryanne
sat on the small balcony of her hotel room. The rusty, red sandstone of the
tall conical formations on the horizon reminded her of stalagmites she’d seen
at Carlsbad Caverns years ago. The rounded, jagged formations rose toward the
sky like dark pillars or chimneys and gave the area an eerie charm. She still
loved Gavin—not as a brother like everyone thought, but as the other part of
her soul. She had loved him before her sister even knew he existed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Glancing
down, she rubbed her finger over the surface of her sister’s lucky gold coin.
She had never believed in luck or magic but that’s exactly what she would need
with Gavin. When he didn't call, she knew he still struggled with the past. She
kissed the coin, sending a silent plea for help, then went back inside her
room, closing the sliding glass door on her worries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">~ ~
~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Ryanne
stood in the jewelry store. An empty rocking chair sat tucked into the back corner
behind the counter. The sound of a soothing waterfall coupled with quiet
classical music created a peaceful ambiance and gave the store a different feel
from all the others. She loved the warmth of the pale yellow walls and the
small selection of beautiful pottery resting on small, almost invisible ledges
across the back wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Mom,
can you—?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
jumped at the sudden sound of Gavin’s loud voice and turned in time to see him
abruptly stop, staring at her openmouthed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> His
surprise quickly turned into a frown. “What are you doing here?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Good
to see you too.” She waved her arm around in amazement. “This is <i>yours</i>?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
stared at her then pushed a long breath between pinched lips. “I’m sorry.
That’s not what I meant. I was just surprised to see you. Here, that is. And
yes, the store is mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
stared back, not sure if she should be mad, especially since he’d stood her up
the night before or feel relieved because she had found him. Again. “I gathered that. Especially since you
never called me last night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
sighed, offering her a crooked smile. “I know. I’m a giant chicken.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
shook her head and laughed. “What are you, ten? That was your favorite comeback
when you knew you’d done something wrong.” He took her hand, holding it tight
to his chest. “Can I interest you in a make-up cheeseburger? I know a really
great pub not to far from here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
stared at their clasped hands resting over his heart. “Yes, I would definitely
be interested in food, especially if you add an Irish coffee to the deal.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">~ ~
~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Ryanne
took a sip of coffee, savoring the hot sweetness, then tilted her head. “So why
a jewelry store?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “I’ve
always been more interested in creating things. You know, woodcraft, painting.
I played sports for Dad. Making quarterback was his dream and I couldn’t let
him down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> A
thoughtful expression stole over her face as she took another sip. “I’ve always
known that. The pictures you painted for Mom always ended up on my bedroom
walls.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
groaned. “Please tell me your taste in art has improved.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
pursed her lips and lightly slapped his arm. “Seriously? I was eight years
old!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Why
were you in the store? Jewelry shopping—or were you interested in the Hopi
vases?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Neither
actually. I came to Sedona to try and sell my jewelry. I think I’ve talked to
every shop owner in town. No one will even look at my stuff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
pulled something from his shirt pocket and held it out to her. She gasped. In
the palm of his hand lay a small silver ring, thin ropes of metal twisting
around and creating a simple but unique piece.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
lovingly brushed a finger over the ring. “This was the first thing I made. I
worked and worked to get the metal to twist just right.” She met his gaze. “You
wore it on your pinky--”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Until
I almost couldn’t get it off. I’ve carried it in my pocket since.” He watched
her eyes fill with tears and realized what he’d been missing all those years. <i>Her.</i> Sitting beside Ryanne now, the
weight he’d been carrying around since Regan’s death lifted. The air in the pub
practically sparkled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> He
leaned forward and took her small hand in his. “I’m sorry for everything, Ryanne. But most of all, I’m
sorry for all the time I’ve wasted. Please stay. There’s space next to my
office. You can use it to make your jewelry then sell it in the store.” He
gently brushed her hair back from her face. “Whatever this is—give it a chance?
Give me a chance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> She
leaned forward and feathered her lips over his. “All you had to do was ask.”
She cupped his cheeks with her hands and pulled him to her, laughter filling
her eyes. “I’ve loved you since I was five years old. Do you remember the day
we met? I fell out of the tree—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “And
I caught you. Your red hair looked like fire in the afternoon sun, even in
pigtails.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “When
Mom tucked me in bed that night, I told her someday I was going to marry you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Sweetheart,
your someday is here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> As
they sealed their love with another kiss, neither noticed the sparkling gold
light circling the lucky coin. They never heard the small <i>pop</i> when the coin disappeared from its silver bed. Across the room,
Aidan smiled, a mischievous gleam
lighting up his eyes as he rolled the gold coin over his knuckles and
whispered, “Aye, cailín, as I was a sayin’, I’ll be havin’ what’s mine. But, ya
have a good heart and I wish ya nothin’ but a wee bit o’ Irish luck. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">And to ye both,
may ye live happily ever after</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">.” </span></div>
</span></div>
<br />
<br />Heidi Vanlandinghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11535732202459960897noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-14609238703309267332013-03-15T01:00:00.000-05:002013-03-17T20:35:27.988-05:00When Irish Eyes Are Smilin'—<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">When Irish Eyes Are Smilin'—<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Watch Your Step or Revel in Your Good Fortune<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">By<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Kathy L Wheeler<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall Adams eyed the bartender with
suspicion. There was something odd about the dude. Familiar. And for a minute
there, he’d swear he’d seen pointed ears, but on second look they appeared
normal enough. Niall blinked and scrubbed a palm over his scruffy beard. Strange
dreams that had been plaguing him for the last three years were taking their
toll, <i>and </i>his mind. Even more
frustrating, he couldn’t seem to recall anything much before those last three
years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “What’ll it be, Yank?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The bartender’s heavy brogue nagged at
Niall. He studied him a moment, realizing in a searing flash Niall’s blood
was just as Irish as the bartender's. “I’ve a throat on me, Sprog, give me a pint of
plain.” The phrase slipped as naturally from him as sand in the desert. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> A dangerous twinkle glittered in the
man’s eyes. “Sprog, is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “I could say the same about ‘Yank.’ ”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> A tense moment passed before he spun
on one heel and flipped a pint glass in the air. He caught it right side up and
held it under the Guinness spigot. A second later it was slammed on the wood
surface before Niall, without so much as a spilled drop. Niall let the foam
settle, swallowed a long drink, then let out a contented sigh. “Ah, now that’s
grand. What’s your name, sir?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He stared at Niall as if surprised by
the question. After a short pause he finally answered. “Aidan.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Aid—” He stopped. The name went along
with the odd dreams, at the heart of which was the reoccurrence of a strange
green door amid a small Irish tavern. The visions were all a bit murky. His
head ached trying to decipher and assemble the fragments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Somehow the year 1802 played a significant
role, and the perpetual appearance of an English beauty. Creamy pale skin
against the softest violet muslin, exposing so much décolleté Niall found
himself having to shift his position on the barstool. The dreams were too
realistic by far. Most disturbing was the notion that he must have made her
acquaintance at some time. <i>Victoria,</i>
the name whispered through his mind. He grunted. Most likely he was just
bolloxed on too many bevvies. Yet, it didn’t explain how he knew her slender
fingers fit so perfectly within his great paws.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He watched Aidan, whose eyes were riveted
on the cuff of Niall’s shirt. It had ridden up to display his fine gold
wristlet. Niall lowered his own gaze and studied the intertwining Celtic knot
he’d worn for the past three years. Like some kind of lifeline representing continuity,
no beginning and no end; a sacred and divine pathway back to . . . “Something wrong, Sprog?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan’s gaze turned dark. Apparently,
he despised being referred to as a ‘kid.’ Niall struggled to hide his mirth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Ye e’er been in love, Yank?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Aye, once. Years ago. Don’t fancy
repeating my mistakes.” <i>Now where had
that come from?</i> He searched his memory. Had he been in love? Yet nothing
concrete surfaced. Only shadows hovering just beyond his reach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Mistakes, eh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Heat stirred against Niall’s skin
where the wristlet lay. He rubbed at it absently. “Aye,” he said slowly. A
picture of midnight hair like spun silk, eyes, blue as an Irish sky in summer filled
his head. “Kin to the crown, she was. No matter how distant. She chose <i>them</i> over me.” <i>God, the words poured from his mouth like water.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Aye, lessons in love. They stink,
don’t they.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The statement startled Niall and an
angry warmth started up his neck. A pain in his chest burned. “Aye,” he growled.
The room around him faded into newly forming visions . . .<i>He stumbled into the tavern—the Rose and Shamrock, it was—his cousin, Finn
would listen to his woes o’er Victoria’s desertion.</i> <i>Perhaps they’d drink themselves into oblivion. Damned Tans.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> With a mental shake, Niall took in his
current surroundings. The distressed wood surfaces, uneven floors, all designed
to imitate an authentic Irish public house, failing miserably in the attempt.
Most notably were the well dressed patrons. An afterwork, happy hour crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Other memories edged their way in. <i>Tears gathered in Lady Allison’s eyes as she
looked at Finn from lowered lashes. Niall smirked. She caught his glance and
spun, running out the door as if she were the hunting dog’s white-tailed fox. To
his disgust his cousin followed as the proverbial hound.</i> He shook his
pounding head. The image blurred yet not the memory. Less than thirty minutes passed
when she’d rushed back in proclaiming she’d found a pot of gold in the nearby
woods. He’d watched in astonishment as she’d unfolded her fist. Seven pieces of
gold! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Confusion ensued. Gasps of surprise,
excitement, wonder. Aidan’s anger, his sudden disappearance—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall’s head jerked to the bartender. <i>Familiar</i> bartender.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> <i>Aidan’s
fury centered first on Lady Allison, then slowly moved from patron to patron.
Lads tripped o’er their feet anxious to escape the unexpected censure. No one
had ever seen Aidan thus. A rush of cold wind swept through the tavern,
overturning glasses, scattering newspapers. One of Lady Allison’s coins flew
from her hand, landing on the bar before Nèall.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> It
was a sign. He palmed the piece and glanced up. A green door he’d ne’er seen
before, stood slightly ajar; coaxing him, enticing him. The ancient coin felt
hot in the coolness of his hand. Gold! He needed to get it through the door . .
.the door was the key. . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Spectral
whispers tugged at his senses, he couldn’t look away. He must walk through.
Victoria, they chanted. Victoria. Victoria.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Aidan banged a couple
of pints on the bar at the opposite end, startling Niall from the past. <i>Victoria. Eyes, as blue as an Irish sky in
summer. Sweet lips. Pain</i>. He’d run from the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> <i>It
was a dream,</i> he insisted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall looked around again. He’d been
in this land nigh on three years. Had he transcended to America by some strange
magic? It certainly wasn’t the<i> </i>America
the British had killed to reclaim. But something akin to the <i>future</i>! And how had he not remembered
the gold? It was <i>gold.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> His customary cynicism returned. What bizarre
dreams had an English beauty frequenting an Irish tavern? It was total rubbish.
<i>The secret Celtic Society.</i> Another
whisper. But—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> <i>Victoria</i>.
He gasped, and shoved the name away, finally realizing that it wasn’t dreams he’d
been suffering through but his own past trying to surface. What else had he forgotten?
Lady Allison claimed to have found a loaded pot of ancient coins. Real or
imagined? Well, he had nothing but time now, hadn’t he? Gold was a worthy
enough cause. Niall frowned. But that was in 1802. Where was he to start more
than two-hundred years after? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall looked at Aidan, and smiled. He downed
the pint, then slammed the glass on the bar. “Right then, another one, boss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Comin’ right up,” Aidan murmured,
turning away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Damn good bartender, that Aidan, he
decided, when the second pint landed in front of him half a minute later. It
was comforting to know that some things never changed. You couldn’t beat a
great bartender, no matter what the year. The kind that read body language. <i>Or desperation.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Once visions of Victoria took shape, scouring
his mind of her was nigh impossible—leastways ’til he was sloshed beyond
reason. Niall lifted the newly poured pint, set to partake, reveling in the
pleasant humming chatter he so loved about Irish pubs despite their lack of
authenticity. Determined to wipe that pert nose and heart-shaped face from his
thoughts, he swallowed a large gulp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The chatter throughout rose then
dropped in decibel before it ground to a screeching halt. The hair on his arms stood
as the hush mounted. ’Twas if a ghost walked o’er his grave—no. More like
hovered there. Dangling in a sharp, chilled breeze that blew across the moor and
right up his spine. Yet there was no wind, no inkling of a stirring current.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The subtle shifting of the crowd drew Niall’s
gaze toward the patio entrance where in swept the girl from his dreams, dark
wavy locks hanging down her back. Her glance moved about, taking in the rustic
décor, her plum-plumped lips tilted up, obviously charmed. Dark brows, perhaps slightly
heavier than he recalled. He closed his eyes, certain he was in a waking dream.
No. ’twas impossible. It could not be her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He opened his eyes. Surely, she just <i>looked</i> similar. Yet, the girl was most enticing,
sent his pulse racing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Aidan,” he barked, not relinquishing
his gaze on her. “Confirm to me I’m in the year 2013, if ye please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He chuckled, but Niall didn’t look at
him. “It be 2013, my friend. ’Tis the luck of the Irish, it is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall’s own chuckle escaped, if
somewhat maniacal. 2013, indeed. He should have his head examined. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She wore some pinkish-reddish lace concoction,
that covered her modestly enough to mid-calf, but form-fit every contour of her
slim, lithe body. No corset, stays, or petticoats for modern day nobility, <i>not nobility,</i> he told himself. He
couldn’t keep his eyes from her. He was tempted to tell Aidan to pinch him,
reassure him this vision was not a mirage of this godforsaken desert he’d found
himself in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Thick as a ditch you are, Yank,” the
feisty bartender muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Aye, that I am,” Niall returned
softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan shook his head in disgust, glaring at
the fool. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his gaze to the gold
band with the interweaving knots at Nèall’s wrist. A small grin stirred deep
within, coursing through his body like a rising flood. It was one of <i>his</i> pieces, he would swear the
livelihood of all the woodland’s nymphs in his home forest on it. The very
forest he was most homesick and determined to return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He glanced towards the newcomer who’d
just flown in. Just the one. Aye, he remembered her. Fit as bird, she was.
Every rich, blue-eyed inch of her. She looked too mollycoddled by far. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Three years, or three hundred years,
it made no difference, it shouldn’t have been that difficult—just a step
through the green door. And <i>poof!</i> He
shook his head, aggravated. Recovering his legacy was progressing at an
excruciatingly snail’s pace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Bah! His duties were clear; and after this
he’d only three more pieces to acquire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Her friend tugging her in the opposite
direction jarred him back to the present situation. He glanced over at Nèall,
determined to right the man’s past. It was the only way to gain possession of his
gold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan snapped his fingers and the tall
stool next to his old friend clattered to the floor, snapping the attention of
every cailín and gent in the place, and perhaps a few dead ones buried in the
desert as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Well, I must admit you were right, this
pub is most definitely quaint, if not so. . . er . . . genuine.” Tori North
shook her head. “And, in the middle of the desert. It’s quite spectacular,
isn’t it?” Several customers turned in their direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Tori spoke softly, keeping her voice
low so her British accent would not stand out quite so prominently, but it
seemed to reverberate off the wood surfaces, from the uneven floors, to the
rickety stools, and aged wainscoting that met ceiling-high windows. She and her
American friend, Paige Harris, scanned the bar for empty seats—of which were
few—when she spotted him. Her stomach dropped. There he sat, the most
attractive man she’d ever seen in her life. Her every dream within a stone’s
throw, and he was staring right at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> England didn’t sport men of his kind.
The sort with shadowed, square jaws and sun kissed skin. But the men in Ireland
. . . or rather <i>one </i>man. To think she
had to travel through time <i>and</i>
America to find him. She grinned suddenly thrilled with life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The clap of wood against wood. Tori
couldn’t ascertain if it was the barstool that hit the wood floor, or a door
slamming to the loo, from where a drunken sot just emerged. Regardless, the jolt
startled a pretty server, despite the horrid color of her unnatural red hair,
carrying a full tray of drinks. Glasses hit the floor, shattering. Several
gasps amid strongly uttered curses filled the air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Come on.” Paige snatched her hand and
dragged her—straight in <i>his</i>
direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Brilliant jade green eyes tracked
their progress. The nearer she and Paige drew, the hotter the temperature rose
in Tori’s face. She couldn’t pull her gaze from that mesmerizing stare. It was
as intense as she remembered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He righted the toppled barstool and
held it out for her. In a clumsy attempt to sit, she almost tumbled to the
floor on her bum instead. Mortified and speechless, she accepted his assistance,
his touch burning through to her lower back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He settled next to her, Paige,
possibly on her other side. Tori couldn’t be sure, couldn’t pull her eyes from
him long enough to see. From across the pub, she’d thought his hair had grown
darker, but sitting this close, she could still discern the rich auburn tresses
that begged for her touch. The fresh scent of sea air filled her nostrils, made
her homesick for . . . <i>him.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “I can’t stifle the feeling we’ve met
before,” he murmured. His tone, somewhat sardonic, made her blush. And just as
captivating, with only a hint of his Irish brogue stealing through. She’d never
reacted to anyone as strongly, before or since . . . <i>him.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “<i>Have</i>
we met before?” Niall demanded softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “I don’t see how.” She smiled, and he
thought his heart stopped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> <i>Victoria,
Victoria, Victoria. </i>The relentless whispers ravaged his control. His hands
curled into fists. <i>It’s her, it’s her, it’s
her.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She paused, then said softly, “Unless,
you’ve chased me through time.” Her clipped accent teased him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall drew in a deep, measured breath.
“Chased you through—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “What’ll it be, m’dear?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She turned that brilliant smile on Aidan,
sending a shock of jealousy slamming through Niall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Same as him,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “A pint of plain, it ’tis.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall watched the byplay, dumbstruck. Had
she found the hidden door? Perhaps she was after the gold, as well. He
scrutinized her from the corner of his eye. <i>Victoria</i>.
Was it possible? Of course it was possible, he’d managed it, hadn’t he? His
fingers itched to touch her hair, cup her cheek. <i>Kiss her lips</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> But he’d do well to remember Victoria
had chosen <i>them</i> over him, refusing to
elaborate except to say her younger sister needed her. Her pretty tears had torn
him to pieces, and all he could do was watch her slip away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She was the daughter of Lord North,
the 5<sup>th</sup> Earl of Guilford, her grandfather, the 2<sup>nd</sup> earl, served
as the British Prime Minister at one time, and to his credit—fought desperately
against the old imperial system in favor of Ireland’s independence. Her father,
however, did <i>not</i> favor an Irish
son-in-law. Those wounds had still proved too recent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Seeing her—this woman—dressed as a modern
woman in the 21<sup>st</sup> century—well, who could blame him for being unable
to reconcile the sight before him. Compared to the proper young lady whose
gloved fingers he’d touched his lips to, turned the dance floor with . . . it
just wasn’t possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> After her father banished Niall from
her presence, Lord North retreated to England with his family in tow—taking
the only love Niall had ever known. He flexed his fingers. He willed himself
calm and pondered her presence with a less than obvious stare—he hoped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> He’d always loved a good gag, and now
he had one. The question it seemed was who would be the butt of this shenanigan?
The wristlet burned against his skin. He could think of one sure way to confirm
this was<i> </i>Victoria or some conniving impostor.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> A kiss would leave no doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Tori’s heart fluttered in her chest as
if a hive of bees had been liberated. Something in her companion’s demeanor had
shifted. Anger? Anticipation? Aloofness? It frightened, excited, terrified her.
This was <i>him. </i>Her Néall. Oh, how
she’d missed him. He was as heart wrenching as ever. Shoulders broad, shadowed
jaw, firm lips. Had time diminished his love? Her gaze lingered on those lips. A
single kiss would satisfy that notion—wrong! A single kiss would <i>never</i> satisfy her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “What is it you do, Miss . . .” The
question trailed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She struggled to pull her thoughts
together. “Tori,” she said. “Just Tori.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Tori, then. Do you have an occupat—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “I’m a student.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> One brow lifted, flustering her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “In Phoenix. I’ve almost completed my
program,” she said, furious with herself at sounding defensive. “It’s two hours
south.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> His lips turned down in a frown, as if
he had trouble picturing <i>that</i>. “I
know where Phoenix is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Oh.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “What program?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She lifted her pint. “Criminal Justice,”
she said softly, then sipped. After all, if she ever returned home she would
see things to right. Just see if she didn’t!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He swiveled on the barstool to fully
face her. “Criminal Justice,” he repeated. “I . . . see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> <i>Of
course you don’t see,</i> she wanted to shout to the rooftops. But being a lady
of decorum she hid her disdain behind a winning façade of a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “But—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “But, nothing,” she snapped, suddenly
impatient. How could he possibly understand the despair, the injustice of how Catherine’s
death had devastated—changed her. Her sweet, delicate six-year-old sister,
drowned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> His eyes fell to her lips. “I . . . I have
to kiss you,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The pint she held slipped from her
fingers, covering the bar with a large pool of beer and foam. “W-what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall had to know! Without a second’s
hesitation, he snatched her hand and lifted her from her stool. He pulled her through
the patio doors, ignoring her friend’s gaping mouth and Aidan’s knowing grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Though the early evening was still
balmy, a blaze filled a large pit. Flickering light from the flames reflected
on her face. Wide eyes watched him, unafraid. As desperately as he wanted to
feel her lips against his, just as fiercely he craved looking at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Cradling her head in his hands, he
lowered his mouth to hers, and savored the melting sweetness of a response he
well-remembered. Dreams or no. Every shred of doubt evaporated in that instant.
Her arms stole behind his neck, tugging him closer. Now that he’d found her, he
knew he could never let her go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He started to lift his head, but she
moaned, holding him in place, lips not quite touching. “Victoria,” he
whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Yes. Yes, it’s me, Néall.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> His name whispered against his lips,
her accent pronouncing as it was intended, sent a shudder of desire hurdling
through him. “Why?” he demanded. “How could you have chosen them over . . . over
us?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> She closed her eyes, but tears
escaped. “Catherine—” Her voice was as desolate as her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Oh, lord, her younger sister. A
fragile child, who looked as if she’d break if one ventured too close. He had
no wish to hear. Such anguish was not for her. But he would bear her grief
along with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “She’s gone? My love, she was sickly. ’Twas
bound to happen,” he said gently. He would give his life for her not to feel
the pain he read in her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Pain shifted quickly to fury. “She
drowned. There was no enquiry. No questions. It was all assumed an accident
though the circumstances were suspicious.” She spun, paced the patio.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He caught her hand on the next pass. “The
Criminal Justice degree then . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He tipped his head to one side. “How
did you get here?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “How did you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Both turned in that moment, her slender
hand molded to his, and looked through the glass doors to Aidan. Watched him slide
a pint to Victoria’s friend. Again, Niall could swear he detected points at the
tips of Aidan’s ears. And, again, the vision faded. There always was something
strange about the man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan glanced up just then. Tossed a
coin he held in the air and caught it. With a sly grin he saluted and turned
away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “Well,” Victoria said as if that
answered everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Niall had to agree. He twirled her to
face him. “I love you, darling. Henceforth, you shall not travel anywhere
without me. Past, present or future.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> “I love you as well. And the same
applies to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> He lowered his head to hers, basking
in his good fortune. An odd coolness touched his wrist, and he glanced down.
The Celtic band was gone, but he cared not one whit. Home was in her arms. <i>Victoria’s.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan watched the lovebirds through
the patio doors and chuckled. He curled his fingers over his latest acquisition
piece. “Aye, an ’the luck of the Irish to ye both,” he said tenderly under his breath.
“And may ye live happily ever after.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">Don't forget to visit tomorrow for Heidi Vanlandingham's A Matter of Luck!</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;"><b>For more information on the books I've written, check out the following:</b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">website: <a href="http://klwheeler.com/">http://klwheeler.com</a></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">blog: <a href="http://kathylwheeler.com/">http://kathylwheeler.com</a></span></span></div>
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Kathy L Wheelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14384045793607239512noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-87245810093750494622013-03-14T00:00:00.000-05:002013-03-14T00:00:04.483-05:00A Glint O 'The Green
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;">A GLINT O’THE GREEN</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;">by </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;">Debi Rogers/Kenna Jayne Macrae</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bertie, will
ya push the hair behind my ear?” the waitress asked, hands filled with dishes
she’d just cleared from his table.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Lean closer,
Fionna.” The rotund butcher whose shop was around the corner from the pub used
a chubby finger to push back the wayward red curl. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finnagan’s
Rainbow overflowed with lunch customers and Fee Glen Eire shimmied, slid, held
her breath, turned sideways, whatever it took to get between the mismatched
chairs and rowdy patrons. She bounded to the kitchen with her precarious load,
her heart light. It had been three months since she’d come home to Sedona to
roost. And, if she were honest, to get away from an untenable situation. But
that was over. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She’d spent
three glorious, hedonistic years living all over Europe with her boyfriend.
Dublin. Edinburgh. Stratford. Canterbury. Giverny. The Loire Valley. Tuscany.
She couldn’t even remember all the places they’d stayed. As a free-lance
photographer, his pictures graced a myriad of magazines. Requests for his
celebrated expertise exploded into full-blown, eighteen-hour workdays. Trains,
hostels, backpacks and hiking boots became their ever-constant companions. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As the luck of
the Irish would have it, she’d found a gold piece shaped like a shamrock in the
pocket of her jacket just as her foot touched the soil of the Emerald Isle.
Left on her own for a time in Dublin, she’d stumbled into a timeworn, waddle
and daub pub, the Rose and Shamrock, that made her feel like she’d been
transported back in time. Inside she’d found her roots, kith and kin, Celtic
and Viking. That first night, Fee asked for a Guinness and the barkeep offered
her a pint she shared with new friends, the rowdy patrons surrounding the
carved bar, hewn with the history of centuries of travelers and locals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Staying in a
bed and breakfast, owned by the McGregors, Fionna wrapped herself in the homey
atmosphere of the tiny village outside Dublin. In the evenings she ate lamb,
shepherd’s pie, colcannon, honey mead––that had been stronger, thicker and more
bitter than she could stand––and her favorite, Irish cream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One night she
overindulged in the cream, swinging joyously to the fiddlers magic, nigh on
into oblivion. The hopping cacophony raised the roof until dawn. To quell her
dizzy head, she pushed through the crowd to reach the cool summer air. Strong
hands held her arms as she swayed, slightly wobbly just outside the door. ’Twas
the raw-boned, six-pack honed, Irish biker son of the woman who owned
Whispering Willows, the bed and breakfast.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Aahhh, lassie,
ya smell of lavendar.” He placed a light finger under her chin to bring her
gaze to his. The world spun and if he hadn’t slid a strong arm behind her back
she might have collapsed in the bracken. He pulled her tight to keep her
upright, bringing them so close, his cologne, mingled with her soul, pulled her
straight to heaven. His scent lodged in the deepest recesses of her brain,
springing forth at the damnedest times, reminding her of the mystery of this
man, of this moment in time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He lowered his
head and touched her lips with his, like a fog softly covering the world. So
gently, so thoroughly, so unobtrusively, he captured her innermost self. She
deepened the kiss, luxuriating in the electrifying jolt his domination caused,
melting her bones, binding her to him in a way that she knew he was the one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stopped far
too soon. “Why...why are you stopping?” She slid her thin arms around his
brawny neck and ran fingers through his thick, blond hair, pulling it from the
queue. “Don’t stop. I––we––the night…” Fionna knew she sounded like a babbling
fool, but she couldn’t stop herself. And the worst part was, he did stop. He
walked her to her room, opened the door and left her with a light, chaste kiss.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then she
found herself across the sea in Scotland, following the photographer. But her
Irishman rarely strayed far from her thoughts. And guilt began to torture her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Eventually she
tired of the vagabond life and left her boyfriend, because she feared he’d
never stay put and Fionna wanted a home and children. A home that stayed still.
Her traveling days were over. But not her sweet memories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sedona was
home. Safe. Though her parents despaired of her getting real work, she liked
the feel of the bar. Patrons knew her. Besides, Chef allowed her to create
dishes to add to the menu and they had become popular. Her dream was to run her
own kitchen. Maybe even her own restaurant.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She pulled the
chalk board into the back room to scribble the menu for the evening. Irish lamb
stew had never been a favorite of hers. Too bland. And she refused to make
corned beef and cabbage. The dinner special would be her potato soup and roast
lamb, slowly braised. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Shuffling in
slippers to the bar, she found Aidan scowling behind it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Honestly, the
man was a veritable Pandora’s box of moods. Refusing to indulge him, Fee leaned
on the bar and grinned lewdly over the taps, just to irritate him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Shall I get
myself a bottle of Baileys or do you want to hand me one?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why what?” she
asked teasingly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m not givin’
ya a bottle, ya wee drunkard.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Letting loose
with a chortle, she shook her head, sending pins and clips slipping down and out
of her heavy mane. “Well, I’m going to make Barmbrack, but first some Bailey’s
cupcakes just for the evening,” she finished spritely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Grabbing her
hair she wound it into a knot using a pencil to hold it in place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At his raised
brows, Fee trotted behind the bar and snatched the necks of two new bottles of
Baileys, disappearing into the kitchen as quickly as she’d come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ya be
answerin’ fer those, not me,” he bellowed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the back,
shepherd’s pie baked, filling the breathable air with tantalizing aroma. Vivid
memories of her grandmother covered in flour and dough tumbled over themselves
until she expected to see her. Chef’s specialty was the pie. Using a secret
ingredient or two, he refused to let anyone else prepare the dish. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bar had a
few lingerers, but otherwise the ring of the old fire bell at the door
signaling a customer jarred Fee from her baking. She was the only waitress who
stayed through from lunch until close. Hands sticky with dough and flour, she
waited. Aidan’s voice came.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fionna! Customer.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Patrice, keep
an eye on my soup, will ya?” Fee shot over her shoulder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Venturing into
the front, she saw a man talking to Aidan. Long, heavy blond hair pulled neatly
into a thong jarred her mind to a time she longed to forget. It couldn’t be. His
arms were sheathed in a long-sleeved teal shirt covered by a sleeveless brown
leather vest, but the tight jeans covering the sculpted butt sent a jolt of
recognition zinging through her. OMG, it could be. A symphony of memories
poured over Fionna. European memories. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How could it
possibly be...him? How had he found her? Again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As she neared,
a nerve-tingling cologne swirled, ebbed and then paralyzed her. Only one person
in her small world smelled of this seductively, male scent, Kilian’s, Straight
To Heaven. And it was. She grabbed for a chair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He turned and
she sucked in a tiny gasp, forgetting to breath then. Wide eyes the shade of
magnolia leaves in the deep, wet summer eclipsed his face. And dammit, but he
made her knees buckle. No. She wouldn’t let him do this to her. Not again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His smile went
from mild surprise to deep delight. “Finally. You’re a hard woman to find.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dublin is a
long way from Sedona.” Her breathy voice faltered and cracked. The last man on
earth she wanted to see stood in her bar. Her voice turned cold. “Where’s your
entourage?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He had the
decency to dip his head, then give her a lopsided grin. Blatant understanding
in his eyes, he shook his head. “Left them behind.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She snorted. “I
bet.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Women. Women of
all ages flocked to him wherever he went. Each time he appeared to plague her,
to tug at her heart, a woman clung to his muscular biceps. Though his mossy
eyes would talk to her, twinkling and inviting, the women spoke volumes.
Another roving man, just a different interest. But why the hell did he follow
her around Europe? And how? It was like he had a sixth sense or a honing
device.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His smile never
wavered. Thirsty eyes drank her in like she were a real lake in a desert filled
with mirages. Rapidly becoming more than disturbed by his sudden appearance,
she wanted him to disappear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Flour becomes
ya,” he ventured nearer her, a finger extended toward her nose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She stepped
back and brushed at his hand, not wanting him within a million miles of
touching her. Just the sight of him set her heart to beating wildly. This was
why she left Europe. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How did you
find me?” Her tone cut sharper than she’d meant, but he didn’t flinch. In fact,
his shamrock green eyes lapped her up from head to toe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“To tell the
truth, I don’t know.” He spread his legs and hooked his thumbs in his belt
loops. “Something keeps tugging at me. Ever since you left Ireland, I’ve had
this––this urge to travel. And here I am. All those times we met all over
Europe, it was the same. Like a whisper drawing me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A glint of green flashed as he drew an object
from his vest pocket. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His Irish
brogue unsettled her. This was the problem. He’d woven a spell around her in
Europe. All the places they’d met should never have happened. Every time she
saw him, a tiny sigh escaped her heart, leaving an ache to replace it. Then she
questioned, why any relationship? Conflicted, she left.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A snicker from
Aidan drew their attention. He hunched his shoulders in a gesture as if to say,
“what?” when they both stared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fee breezed
past Donal with a shrug. “You have to leave. There’s no reason for you to be
here.” His aura captured another whisper of her heart as she passed him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is this reason
enough?” He slapped a gold shamrock on the counter. Aidan<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pounced on it, but Donal was faster. He
covered it, turned his head toward Fee and crooked one cocky brow. Daring her
to run from the room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The blood
drained from her face. “W––wh––where did you find it?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Deep in one of
my jacket pockets. ’Tis guessing I am now, ’tis been there since the first time
we met. Ever after I’ve had this unexplainable pull that runs us into each
other. What else could it be?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Pfft. It’s
called love ‘em and leave ‘em. No pull or magic to it. Just you. Give me back
my coin and then leave me alone. Go back to Ireland.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hold now,
lass!” Aidan blurted. Frowns all around. “He’s a paying customer, Fee. Ya can’t
trow him out. Besides maybe he’s here for green beer.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He’s not.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fionna flipped
directions faster than a fish slipped out of reach. Fine, let him keep the
coin. She’d learned to be without it. Luck she didn’t need, not with him
standing in front of her, making her blood race like a thoroughbred. She needed
a curse to send the man away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her hands shook
so, she had to clutch them together while she strode through the swinging doors
to the kitchen. “Let it lie, Donal. I’m not interested,” she lied.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The hell she
wasn’t interested.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Donal McGregor
kicked off his shoes after he slammed shut the hotel door. How had he ended up
in the very bar in Sedona, face to face with Fionna, the most stubborn woman
he’d ever had the pleasure to meet? Truth was definitely stranger than fiction.
He felt bewitched. His heartbeat raced whenever he got near the lass.
Inexplicable. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Lying with
ankles crossed on the king-sized bed, coin clasped tightly in his fist, the
golden shamrock burned like molten lava. A reminder of the lass’ fiery hair and
blazing temper. A wispy breeze floated over his lips to awaken the memory of
her buttery-soft lips touching his in a kiss that branded her name on his
heart. Damn the woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The smallest of
sounds escaped her and his eyes flew open. She was here. The temperature of the
room heightened until an ethereal, sultry mist hugged him. He leaned up on both
elbows and jerked his head, scanning every corner, looking for her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Closing his
eyes, he sensed her all over again. He lay the shamrock on the bed covers with
his hand protectively over top of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Though she
stayed busy with dinner and a wildly crazy crash of people, her mind strayed to
Donal and the shamrock. Suddenly the pub noise died to nothing. At the door
stood the towering blond biker. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fionna worried
her bottom lip and sucked in a ragged breath. No words would form.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He crooked his
finger at her and she shook her head. She swallowed hard and backed away.
Backed into a solid, warm body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Aidan whispered
in her ear. “Go to him, lass. You know you want to.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The crowd
opened a path for Donal that led to Fee. She felt a nudge that pushed her into
his powerful arms. He placed the shamrock into the cup of one of her palms and closed
her hand around it. While they held it, a glint o’ green sparked from his gaze
into her bistre eyes and he said, “I love ya, Fionna Glen Eire. I’ve loved ya
since the first time we drank the mead.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The shamrock
slipped from her fingers and rolled across the floor as she slid her palms
around his waist. The glow from her perception enveloped his dear face and she
accepted what she’d felt all through her travels.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We were meant
to be, Donal. I love ya. And I’ll no run from the guilt of it nay more.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“’Twas a kiss,
lassie. Only a kiss. Naught else.” Then he lowered his head, branding her as
his forevermore with only a kiss.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Aidan chuckled
gleefully and sprinkled magic dust over the couple. “An’ the luck o’ the Irish
be with ya. May ya live happily ever after.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "TimesNewRomanPSMT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-87801109720597447342013-03-13T01:00:00.000-05:002013-03-13T01:00:04.039-05:00Fortune’s Journey<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span><br />
<h1 align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 12pt 0in 3pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Fortune’s
Journey</span></h1>
<h1 align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 12pt 0in 3pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">By
Alicia Dean</span></h1>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A
whisky sour and two rum and cokes,” Ciara Duffy called to Aidan, the bartender
at Finnegan’s Rainbow. He didn’t acknowledge her, but she knew he’d heard. He
was no more than four feet away, and while the pub was busy, the music loud, he
was attuned to listening for the servers to call out orders. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Aidan? Did you hear me? A whisky sour
and two rum and cokes.” She spoke louder this time, but he didn’t so much as
flinch. He was staring intently at something, his eyes slitted, chest rising
and falling with rapid breaths. What the hell? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She followed his gaze but couldn’t see
anything out of the ordinary. What could she say, the guy was strange. “Aidan!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His head whipped toward her. “What is
it?” he snapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“My order. I need—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, yeah. I heard ye.” With jerky
movements, he slapped glasses down on the bar and sloshed rum into two of them,
using the soda gun to add coke. He made the whisky sour and sat the three
cocktails on her tray.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She slid the tray off the bar, then hurried
toward her table. A man stumbled out of the bathroom in front of her. She
yelped and jumped back, sending the drinks crashing to the floor. Glasses
shattered. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her knees turned to rubber.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hey, lassie. Watch yerself, would ye?
Now I’ll have ta be makin’ the drinks over again, and the cost for those
glasses is comin’ out o’ yer pay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Irritation momentarily overrode her
fear. “As little as I make, it’ll take the pub months to recover their loss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">An uncharacteristic grin lit Aidan’s
face. “Just be more careful, mind ye.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She took a deep breath, steadying her
nerves. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Get yourself together. Dave won’t
find you. You’re free of him. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She’d been hiding from her ex fiancé for
five weeks. Successfully thus far. Sedona was nearly three-thousand miles from
Boston. She’d changed her name to Kate Caplan. Cut off her hair, dyed it from dark
blonde to a godawful red. Contacts changed her gray eyes to brown. She was
safe. Of course if Dave found her, he’d recognize her. No doubt about it. But
anyone searching for Ciara Duffy by description wouldn’t take a second look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Glenlivet, neat,” a man at the bar ordered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">That
voice.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> Dear God. Panic skittering in her chest, she kept
her head down, and cut her eyes to the direction the voice had come from. Her
heart dropped to her stomach. This time, the fear was justified. The man
leaning on the bar was the second to last person in the world she wanted to see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eric Roth sipped his scotch and glanced
around the pub. Not a sign of Ciara. But had he really expected there would be?
A crazy hunch had brought him here. It was more than crazy, it was
bizarre…insane. He reached up and touched the gold earring in his left ear. He
was heading into Sedona, working a lead based on something Ciara had said a few
months ago, when the earring suddenly felt…warm, almost alive. A vision had
slammed into his consciousness. Finnegan’s Rainbow, and Ciara. Here. Only she
didn’t really look like Ciara. This woman’s hair was short and a reddish color.
But his gut told him it was her. Ridiculous. Some kind of mystical hocus pocus
and an offhand comment steered him thousands of miles from home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A tingle raced across the back of his
neck. A feeling of being watched. He looked over his shoulder and found the odd
bartender’s gaze fixed on him. More precisely, on his ear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You got a problem, bud?” Eric drew his
shoulders back. He was tired, wound up, frustrated he’d wasted two days on a
fool’s errand. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. A good fight
was just what he needed to relieve his tension.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A strange expression came over the guy’s
narrow face. A look that was calculating, greedy…evil. Maybe the jerk was
spoiling for a fight too. Eric clenched a fist. He would be happy to give it to
him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A few moments of tense silence passed
before the bartender shook his head. “Nothing, Yank. Not a thing. How’s yer
drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fine.” The tension eased from Eric’s
shoulders, and he turned away from the bartender. No sense in starting a brawl
over nothing. There were other, more important matters to focus on. Like the
fact that he’d failed. Dave Loftus was his best friend. A lifelong friend
closer than any brother could be. The guy had saved his life in the Gulf. Literally
taken a bullet for him. Eric owed him. So when Dave’s fiancée—former
fiancée—had fled Boston, Eric agreed to find her. For the second time. He
wasn’t sure why Dave was so determined to chase after someone who obviously
wanted nothing to do with him. Or was he? Ciara wasn’t just any woman. She was
special. Beautiful, intelligent, warm, funny. What man wouldn’t go to the ends
of the earth for a woman like her? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Those were dangerous thoughts. He shook them
away. Shook away the unreasonable attraction he felt for his best friend’s
girl. Even if it was his ex-girl, he could never act on feelings he had for
Ciara. Even if she felt the same way. Which she didn’t. There were unwritten
rules when it came to things like that. He could never do that to Dave. He downed
the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the bar. Might as well head
back to Boston. He had a long drive ahead of him. A long drive where he could
curse himself for giving in to whatever mystifying spell had led him on this
empty mission.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He was almost to the door when the red-haired
waitress passed in his peripheral. Something about her drew his attention. Her
back was to him, but there was a certain familiarity about her, about the way
she moved, an aura that reminded him of…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ciara? Was it possible?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ciara held her breath, waiting for Eric
to leave. He was no more than two feet from the door. She was almost home free.
But he paused. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Go, please, just go.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Maybe the elusive luck of her Irish
heritage would finally kick in, and he would go back to Boston and never
return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Keeping her face averted, she set a
burger basket in front of blonde, tight-sweatered woman at the bar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She was circling back around to her
station when a hand landed on her arm. She jumped, whirled, and looked into the
cobalt eyes of Eric Roth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ciara?” His gaze roamed her face, her
body, then back up to look into her eyes. “It is you. What the hell? You
changed your hair. Your eyes are—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She jerked from his grasp. “Yeah, that’s
what you do when you’re running for your life. But I guess I can’t run far
enough or hide well enough.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She cut her gaze around the pub, looking
for an escape route. As badly as she needed the job, if she could get away from
Eric, she would give it up, run…again. She swallowed back a knot of tears. Was
this to be her life? Would Dave never let her go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Can we go somewhere private?” Eric’s low
voice carried to her in spite of the music and laughter swelling around them.
The bar patrons carried on, unaware of the panic threatening to cut off her air,
of the tension coiling in her stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Not on your life,” she hissed. She
turned and continued toward the bar, her heart seeming to pause in its beating
as she waited on Eric’s next move. How could she possibly shake him? No way
would he take his eyes off her now that he’d found her. Unless…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Instead of stopping at the bar, she
pushed through the swinging doors beneath the Employees Only sign. Eric, not
one to let anything silly like rules stop him, followed her into the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The cooks, Joe and Patrice, looked up,
brows raised, then went back to their tasks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hold up, Ciara.” Eric cornered her.
“You don’t have to run from me. I won’t hurt you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She whirled on him. “You’re here to take
me back, right? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That’s</i> hurting me. So
don’t pretend you give a damn.” She crossed her arms tightly over her middle,
fighting back tears. “How did you find me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“The question is, why did you run? Dave
loves you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She snorted a laugh. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Right</i>.” She shoved her sleeve up,
revealing a faded ring of bruises. “That’s your idea of love?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His face blanched, but he quickly
schooled his expression. “He must not have known how hard he was grabbing you. I’m
sure he didn’t mean to hurt you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She pulled her sleeve back down, her
shoulders slumping in weary resignation. Eric would always believe the best of
Dave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She let out a sigh and lifted her
gaze to his. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You didn’t answer my
question. How did you find me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He let out a sigh. “You remember that
road trip we took from Denver?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She rolled her eyes. “Road trip? You
mean when he sent you to drag me back the last time?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He ignored her question. “After you got
over being pissed, we talked the entire trip. About everything…nothing.
Remember? You told me about how you and your family used to travel. You said
the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen was a rainbow in Sedona. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And here you are.”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her anger eased ever so slightly. He’d
remembered something that insignificant? In spite of her fear, she couldn’t
help but be touched. The only hard thing about leaving Dave was knowing she’d
never see Eric again. On the trip from Denver, she’d gotten to know him. He was
more than just the tall, dark-haired sexy friend of her fiancé. She’d sensed the
connection between them, although neither of them spoke of it. But she’d been
unable to get him out of her mind. Out of her heart. And now she had to harden
her heart against him. She had to remember he was nothing more than Dave’s
lapdog henchman. “Well, wasn’t that convenient? You filed that little tidbit
away for later use, I see. I’m not surprised you and Dave are so tight.
Assholes gravitate to other assholes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His mouth tightened, and his eyes turned
the color of a midnight storm. He shrugged. “Yeah, and the Intel came in handy,
didn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She clenched her jaw. “I need to get
back to work. You know your way out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ciara, I’m here to take you back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“You can’t make me go. Not willingly.
Dave is…unstable, cruel. I’m done with him. Forever.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Now, come on. Dave might not be Mr.
Perfect, but he’s hardly--”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She cut him off with a bitter laugh.
“Why would I expect you to believe me? Even if you did, you would still take
his side, so just forget it. But I can promise you, I’m not going back. You’ll
have to kill me first.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He burst out laughing. “Kill you? Isn’t
that a little dramatic?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Dramatic? Was he kidding? His best
friend was a violent, obsessed psycho who would stop at nothing to get what he
wanted, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> was dramatic?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Go to hell,” she gritted. She brushed
past him and pushed through the doors. As expected, Eric followed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Aidan looked up when she returned to the
bar area. His shrewd gaze narrowed on her, then over her shoulder to Eric.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Everythin’ all right, cailín?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fine.” Ignoring Eric, she made her
rounds to the customers she’d been neglecting since her doom arrived on her
doorstep. Surely he wouldn’t snatch her from a pub filled with witnesses. She
probably didn’t have anything to worry about until Finnegan’s closed. And by
then she’d have a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eric moved to a barstool, scowling at
the annoying bartender. He didn’t like the way the guy watched him…watched
Ciara. What was his deal? Were they involved? The thought made his jaw clench. He
forced his muscles to relax. None of his damned business. She was Dave’s
problem, not his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’ll have another Glenlivet.” He meant
to say it like he was simply ordering a drink, but it came out as a threat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The bartender slid the glass in front of
him. “I’ll not have ye harmin’ Katie.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Katie?” Ah. That must be the name Ciara
was using. “This is between me and her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe I’m makin’ it between me too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eric’s fist clenched around his glass.
He leaned across the bar until his nose nearly touched the bartender’s. “Maybe
if you know what’s good for you, you won’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Ye don’ scare me none.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A feral glint in his green eyes told
Eric the man spoke the truth. A shudder raced through him. There was
something…off about this guy. His gaze was too intense, honing in on Eric as if
he were a criminal when his only crime was ordering another scotch. It wasn’t
the expression of a jealous lover either. Something else lit a fire under this
guy’s ass. Eric shook his head. He didn’t have the time or energy to deal with
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Katie</i> should try tellin’ the truth for once. Then she wouldn’t find
herself in so many sticky situations.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Whate’er she tole’ you, it be the
truth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Eric chuckled. The woman had changed her
look, lied about her identity, and no telling what else, yet this dip wad was
defending her integrity. “Thanks for the tip, pal, but I’ll take it from
here.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Enough. He was tired of screwing around.
He would insist Ciara go with him. She and Dave could sort out their
differences, and he would be done with it. And the next time she took off, Dave
could find her himself. Eric wasn’t anyone’s lackey. He had more important
things to do than keep patching up Dave’s love spats. And if she wouldn’t come
with him, he’d… What? He couldn’t physically force her. She seemed pretty
damned determined to hide over something as simple as a broken romance. Why so
drastic?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Too many questions and not enough answers.
He shook his head and finished off the scotch. Slamming the glass down on the
bar, he strode over to where Ciara was delivering food to a man and woman. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Listen, I’ve wasted enough time—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Without letting him finish, she whirled
away. He grabbed hold of her hand. She jerked, but instead of loosening his
hold, only managed to dislodge her clothing. The shoulder of her white uniform
shirt slipped down, nearly exposing a breast. He sucked in a breath and cleared
his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Unable to stop himself, his eyes dropped
down to drink in her exposed flesh. When he saw her shoulder, fury pounded
through him. Puckered white scars slashed across her collar bone. He’d been in
battle enough to recognize the source. Knife wounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Heat burned in Ciara’s cheeks. She’d
almost flashed the entire pub. She hastily snatched her blouse up, covering the
scars, but not quick enough. Eric’s eyes blazed down at her, the blue
shimmering like a flame. He was angry with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i>?
Figured. Apparently, he was one of those jerks who thought it was the woman’s
fault when a guy beat the crap out of her…or sliced her with a knife. She tried
to shove away the hurt that she’d pegged him so very, very wrong. She’d
actually thought he had a soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He released his grip and reached a
tentative hand up to graze his fingers over the scars. She sucked in a breath
at the unexpected tenderness of his warm touch. His voice was low, hoarse, but
she heard every clipped syllable. “He did this to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A current zipped through the air between
them. The people, the noise, all faded away, and there was only her and Eric.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She gave a bitter smile. “Did you think
I ran because I liked it?” She stepped back, and his hand dropped to his side.
“I told you, I’m not going back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He blinked rapidly. “I’ve known him most
of my life. How could I not…” He shook his head. “How could I not know? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t believe he hurt you like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her lips twisted. “That figures. You
don’t believe me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I didn’t say I don’t believe you, I
just—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She raised a hand to cut him off. “Save
it. I have customers. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ciara spent the next hour doing her best
to take care of her customers and ignore Eric. All the while, she was planning
her escape. She pushed aside the guilt at leaving Aidan in the lurch. He’d been
good to her. Given her a job when she had nowhere else to go. But this was
about survival. Eric might feel bad about what Dave had done to her, but she
knew where his loyalties lay. He wouldn’t drag her back kicking and screaming,
but he would definitely tell Dave where she was. Her safe haven was now rife
with danger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She chose a moment—and there were few of
them—when Eric wasn’t looking in her direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Hurrying into the ladies room, she
rushed over to the window. It was high on the wall, but not quite out of reach.
And it was just wide enough that she could fit through. Working quickly, she
shoved the window open and wiggled her way up and into the opening. It took
longer than expected and tension knotted her muscles. At any moment, she expected
the door to fly open and Eric to charge in and snatch away her brief glimmer of
hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She dropped down on the ground, relief
sweeping through her. Freedom. Where to now? She had no idea, but it would be
somewhere far away from here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Going somewhere?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She whirled at the sound of Eric’s
voice. Damn it to hell. So close. Eric stood in the alley, backlit by the
streetlights, looking like the devil himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Moisture sprang to her eyes. Deflated,
she swiped at the tears and lifted her chin. “Okay, fine. You got me. Let’s go.
But it’s a long drive to Boston. Somewhere along the way, I’ll escape. Even if
I have to kill you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He quirked a grin. “Violent little
thing, aren’t you? All this talk about killing.” He moved closer and stared
down at her with an unreadable expression. “You’re not going to kill me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She took a step back. Her pulse
quickened. “I-I might if I get the chance.” The words came out in a breathless
rush.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He closed the distance between them
slowly, methodically. “No, you won’t.” He reached up to brush the hair off her
face. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She swallowed hard and licked her lips. “We
do?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah. Because of this.” He cupped a
hand behind her neck and tilted her face up. His mouth found hers, warm,
searching. Her eyes drifted shut. Her bones were melting, her head swimming.
She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. He broke the kiss and murmured, “We’d
hate to miss out on that, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Shaking her head to clear the fog, she
pushed away from him and ran a trembling hand over her mouth. “Some friend you
are.” She gave a shaky laugh. “You tell me he’s like a brother, then you put
the moves on me? Is this some ploy to soften me up so I’ll fall in your arms
and go back with you willingly?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He shook his head. “You’re way off. You’re
not going back. And neither am I. Unless it’s to beat Dave to a pulp.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He ran his fingers beneath her shirt and
touched the scar. “After what he did to you, it’s all I can do not to go back
and tear him apart with my bare hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A night breeze blew her hair into her
face, and she scraped it aside. “You believe me? You’re not…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He lifted her chin gently with a forefinger.
“Here I’ve been feeling guilty about being in love with my best friend’s girl.
What a joke. That can’t compare to what Dave did to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her heart beat so rapidly, she thought it
would fly from her chest. “You love me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Always have, but I couldn’t tell you.
Not when you belonged to Dave. Not before I knew what kind of an asshole he
was. I want to stay here. With you. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my
life making up for the pain you’ve suffered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Won’t he come looking for us? You?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I never told him where I was going.” A dangerous
glint sparked in his eyes. “And trust me, he doesn’t want to find me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ciara closed her eyes and took a deep
breath. For the first time in months, she was at peace. Safe. She opened her
eyes and looked up at Eric. She lifted a hand to his face. her eyes drawn to
his left lobe. “What happened to your earring?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He frowned and touched his ear. “No
idea. I guess it fell out.” He shook his head. “Does it matter? I just told you
I love you, and you’re worried about an earring?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She smiled. “What would you say if I
told you I love you too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He grinned back. “I’d say let’s go somewhere
more comfortable and talk about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Years of pain and loneliness and fear
lifted from her heart. Maybe her Irish legacy had brought her luck after all. Judging
from the look in Eric’s eyes, she was about to get <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very</i> lucky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Inside the bar, Aidan’s eyes gleamed as
his fingers tightened around the gold earring. He glanced toward the alley. <span style="color: black;">“Aye, an’ the luck of the Irish to ye both,” he whispered. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And may ye live happily ever after.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">*******************************************************</span><br />
<br />
To start reading from the beginning of the St. Paddy day stories, go to:<br />
<a href="http://wildokies.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2013-03-12T01:00:00-05:00&max-results=1">http://wildokies.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2013-03-12T01:00:00-05:00&max-results=1</a><br />
<br />
For more information on Alicia Dean, visit her website at: <a href="http://www.aliciadean.com/">www.AliciaDean.com</a></div>
<br />Alicia Deanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12003539473772776004noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-53464679171596645552013-03-12T01:00:00.000-05:002013-03-12T01:00:00.442-05:00Lucky Charms<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">LUCKY CHARMS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">By<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Silver James<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Sedona, Arizona</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Present Day</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Finnagan’s Rainbow.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley MacDermot stared at the
pub sign unsure of whether to laugh or be dismayed. He glanced up and down the
street to make sure this wasn’t some American reality TV stunt. St. Patrick’s
Day wasn’t that far off and he’d heard the Yanks tended to go all sappy over
the day. He grimaced and crossed the street. If he could get a proper Guinness,
the indignity would be worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Authentic Irish music spilled
from the open doorway and the interior was far less Faux Irish than he’d
anticipated. The oak bar was stained dark from age and use. The tables and
chairs scattered about the place were a jumble of styles, all showing the wear
and tear of pub life. The aroma of Irish soda bread and… He sniffed again.
Could it be possible that bangers and mash hid in the kitchen?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The food menu was scrawled on
a blackboard and hidden among the usual American bar grub, he found the magic
words. The place did serve bangers and mash. His mouth watered as he sauntered
to the bar and took a seat on a high stool.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The bartender snarled
something over his shoulder and the man’s accent curled Riley’s lips. “Aye, an’
the same back t’ye. I’ll be havin’ a pint of the black stuff, poured properly
if ye please, and bangers and mash if they’re edible.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The man turned to stare at Riley
and without a word, grabbed a glass and partially filled it from a pull lever
on the bar. He let the glass sit while he padded toward the window pass through
and yelled to the cook. Returning to top off the pint and placing it in front of
Riley, the bartender went about his business until the cook yelled back. The
man slid a plate heaped with sausage and mashed potatoes in front of Riley.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Sniffing appreciatively, Riley
sampled the food. Not quite like his mum’s but it would do. He loosened his tie
and relaxed for the first time since arriving in the States two weeks before.
He’d shuttled from pillar to post in search of an elusive thief and the gold
the bugger had stolen out from under the very noses of the museum guards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> He’d hit one roadblock after
another and here he was in Sedona, Arizona for God’s sake. The Wild West. What
in bloody blue blazes did a good Irishman working for Scotland Yard know about
cowboys and Indians?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> At the moment, he
concentrated on the beer, the food, and the snarly bartender wearing a nametag
with Aidan stamped upon it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt Montgomery wrapped her
fingers around the gold coin she wore on a chain around her neck. The gesture
soothed her nerves—not to mention the little frisson of energy she received
each time she did so. She’d found the coin in a box of doodads in a dusty
corner of a secondhand shop. It already had a hole drilled in it so it had been
a simple matter to slip a gold chain through it to wear. “For luck,” she’d said
at the time—spending money she didn’t have on the bauble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Her stomach rumbled, reminding
her that the free bagel at breakfast had long since digested. Glancing up and
down the street, all the restaurants looked high dollar. She had exactly seven
dollars and fifty-eight cents in her pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She snorted. “Hell. I have
exactly seven dollars and fifty-eight cents to my name. Face it, girl, you’re
broke. If you don’t find a job, you’ll be selling your lucky charm if not yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> A door up the street opened
and a couple, along with laughter and music, spilled out into the night. Drawn
like the early bird to a worm, Britt slipped into the pub right behind two
guys. She put a flirty smile on her face, hoping they’d ask her to join them. As
if! They didn’t even notice her as they waved to two girls already holding a
table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">The place was rollicking with
only one stool open at the bar. Britt slipped off her jacket, smoothed her
form-hugging sweater down her sides and hips, and put a friendly smile on her
face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Excuse me, is this seat
taken?” She asked no one in particular as she draped her jacket over the stool
and prepared to climb up on it. The girl on the left ignored her, too busy
talking to her girlfriend, but the man on the right turned and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I’m thinkin’ it might be
taken now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt stared and hoped her
mouth wasn’t gaping open. Three things struck her. Blue eyes. Handsome beyond
her dreams. And an Irish accent. Her foot slipped and the man steadied her
elbow. Heat radiated from his palm. She licked her lips, unable to take her
eyes from his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “What’ll ye have, cailín?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “You-you’re Irish.” Britt
wanted to headslap herself. D’uh! Of course he was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The man chuckled. “Riley
MacDermot and guilty as charged.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She blinked rapidly and hoped
whatever decided to come out of her mouth sounded semi-intelligent. “Britt Montgomery,
and I’m normally not this stupid.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley laughed and winked
before raising his hand to get the bartender’s attention. </span><span style="font-size: 19px;">“</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Aidan, bring the
cailín a—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt glanced at his glass.
“Guinness. I’ll have a Guinness.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “And would you be hungry,
too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She nodded. “Just a burger
and fries. Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> A dark shadow hovered over
her and she tore her gaze away from Riley only to collide with a glower from
the bartender. The man was staring at her chest. Blushing, she tugged the scoop
neck of her sweater a bit higher. The guy actually smacked his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Oy, enough, boyo. Bring the
girl her order.” Riley’s voice snapped, full of command.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> With a bored curl of his lips,
the bartender sauntered away to comply. Britt studied him, a bit freaked by the
guy’s interest. Tall and thin, he had a thatch of red hair and long, nimble fingers
that wrapped around the pull handle. He continued to stare at her chest as he
set the beer on the bar but she refused to be intimidated. She arched a brow,
and in a move designed to show him she didn’t care, Britt picked up her glass
and turned to offer a toast to Riley.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “<i>Sláinte</i>.” He beat her to it but a moment later, his eyes also
dropped to her chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Britt glanced down to make
sure her “girls” were adequately covered. They were. But her gold coin wasn’t.
Neither man was staring at her breasts. Apparently, they were focused on her
lucky charm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Ahem. Eyes up here, boys!”
She hoped she sounded indignant—but maybe a little flirty, too. The thought
that Riley might be interested in her that way set her pulse to galloping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley was enough of a gentleman
that his gaze immediately moved to her face. The bartender, on the other hand,
continued to stare and his expression unnerved her even more. He looked like
her lucky charm was the most important thing in the world and she wondered what
he would do to get it. She resisted the urge to cover the coin with her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan finally moved on called
away by a red-haired waitress, and while he remained at the other end of the bar, he
watched her furtively. The same waitress plopped a burger basket in front of her a few minutes later, but
Britt’s hunger had fled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She glanced up at Riley from
the corner of her eye and noticed he studiously ignored her, concentrating on
his half-full glass of Guinness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Of all the bloody luck. The
girl at his side was the first in ages to tempt Riley to focus on something
besides work. Except she was turning out to <i>be</i>
his work. The gold coin she wore so blatantly around her neck looked very much like the gold taken in the London museum heist. He needed time to think, and he
certainly couldn’t do that staring into guileless green eyes. Not to mention all
the blood in his head had rushed south the moment the cailín sat down beside
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley tossed back the remains
of his beer and with a hand that shook slightly, he handed money over to the
bartender to pay for his meal and Britt’s. “Keep the change, lad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Without looking at her, he
headed for the door, fighting the urge to turn around. Riley pictured Britt
hunched over, looking dejected, as she had as he walked away. He wanted to return, take her in his arms, and
assure her he wasn’t truly an arse. But until he could look at his files again,
and separate work from personal, he had to keep walking. He made the door,
stumbled out into the chilly night air, and with a headshake, walked briskly
back to his hotel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt chewed but could barely
swallow. Despite gulping most of her beer, her mouth remained as dry as the surrounding
desert. She’d sure like to know what the heck was going on. Riley had seemed
like a really nice guy—okay, a really sexy guy, if she was truthful. A really
sexy guy she’d felt a connection to. Until he flipped out and ran away. A
shadow loomed over her again and she glanced up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The bartender stood there,
his right hand stretching toward her even though his long, supple fingers
curled against his palm, as if they itched to touch her. No, not her. Her gold
coin. She leaned back, putting more space between them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Ye shoulda gone after ’im, ye
know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She looked askance. “Oh,
really? The dude freaked out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> A lopsided grin crinkled one
of his cheeks. “Aye, he did a bit of that, true enough. But I have a sense of
these things, ye know. If ye see ’em again, ye should be makin’ nice to the
man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Ha. And if you don’t stop
staring at my girls I’m going to slap you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> He tucked his chin and looked
perplexed. “Yer girls?” Realization dawned but he didn’t blush. “Nay, girl.
’Twasn’t starin’ at <i>them</i>. ’Tis yer
bauble has my attention.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Her fingers curled around the
coin protectively. “You can’t have it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The bartender just smiled,
his expression condescending. “So you say now, girl. But we’ll see now, won’t
we?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Unnerved, Britt wrapped up
her food in the paper lining the basket in which it was served, snagged her
jacket and headed for the door. It might have just been bad timing rather than bad luck, but as she
stepped outside, the music ended and the bartender’s laughter followed her into
the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> After a night spent pacing
the confines of his room, Riley glanced in the mirror. He looked much worse for
the wear. His hair sprouted in odd directions from tunneling his fingers
through it. The telephone conversation he’d had with his superior hadn’t
helped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “A girl has one of the coins?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><i> “The girl has </i>a<i> coin. I can’t confirm it is from the
stolen cache.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Eye color?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Pardon?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “What color are her eyes, man?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Oh. Green.”</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt;">
Green like Irish moss on a misty morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Hair?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Blonde. No. Brown.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Make up your mind, MacDermot.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “The lighting wasn’t very good. Her hair is dark
blonde or maybe light brown.”</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Would
it shine with golden highlights in the sun?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “She doesn’t fit any descriptions associated with the
case. Track her down. Find out how much she knows. Maybe she can lead you to
the loot and the takers.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> So here he stood, staring
bleary-eyed and sleepless at his reflection. How the bloody feck was he going
to find her again?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt couldn’t believe her
luck. She’d found a hundred dollar bill on the sidewalk last night, which meant
she could stay one more day in her hotel. She stroked her lucky charm, smiling
and feeling hopeful for the first time in a year. Heaping her plate full from
the free breakfast buffet, she planned out her day. She needed to find a job.
And a place to stay cheaper than the hotel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Her thoughts elsewhere, she
turned without looking. She bumped into someone and would have dumped her food
had strong hands not gripped her arm and steadied her plate. Glancing up, her
gaze melted into surprised blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Britt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Riley?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “How—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “What—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Here, cailín. I’ve a table
there by the window. Let’s get you settled and you can eat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> A few minutes later, both of them
sated and with steaming mugs in front of them, Riley cleared his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I’m glad I ran into you. I
feel wretched about my behavior last night.” His conscience only twitched a
little at the statement. It was the truth but not the whole reason for his need
to see her again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Her expression didn’t change.
“You acted really weird, Riley. And I’m not sure I should be talking to you.
You could be like a serial killer or something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Wondering for a moment if the
truth would be worse, he decided to gamble. “Actually, I hunt serial killers.”
Her expression morphed into one of disbelief. “I work for Scotland Yard. I’m a
DCI—Detective Chief Inspector.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt’s cheeks flushed with
color. “Seriously? I mean…that’s like…so…BBC.” Her brow furrowed as she
considered. “Are you here on vacation or something? And I want to see some ID,
dude.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Something, and here.” He
reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and offered her his badge and
ID. Despite his best intentions, his gaze was drawn repeatedly to her necklace.
When she noticed, her fingers closed over the coin protectively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “What do you mean <i>something</i>?” Her expression turned
suspicious. “Are you on a case?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I am. There was a heist at a
museum in London. We traced some of the stolen goods to the States and I’ve
been hot on the trail since.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Her jaw dropped and then her lips
pressed into a grim line. “Wait! You think I’m involved?” She sputtered angrily
as her full lips worked to form words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley couldn’t stop himself.
He leaned in, captured her lips with his in a swift hot kiss. Britt fought for
a moment and then melted. His fingers brushed against the medallion as they
stroked her neck and a tiny electric shock danced across their tips at the
contact. He pulled away to stare at the gold coin. It was glowing, but that
wasn’t possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt opened her eyes and he
thought he might get lost in their soft, green depths. Inhaling deeply to get
his emotions under control, he then cupped her cheek in his palm. “I won't be apologizin' for my actions, and I plan t’kiss ya again, but I gotta know. Tell me,
cailín, about the coin. Please?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I bought it. At a shop in
Phoenix. And then I bought a bus ticket to come here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> She blinked a few times
before her brows knitted and she looked perplexed. “I don’t know. I mean…” Her
voice trailed off as her color deepened again. When she pulled back, Riley
dropped his hand from her face, only to capture her hand with it. He offered a
gentle squeeze but didn’t speak. After several breaths, she continued. “I’m
broke. I need a job. But something told me to get on that bus and come here.”
She gazed down at their connected hands before glancing back up. “Just like
something told me to go into the pub.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Finnegan’s Rainbow?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She laughed to cover her </span><span style="font-size: 19px;">embarrassment</span><span style="font-size: medium;">. “Maybe it’s magic or something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley swallowed his chuckle.
Who was he to say? His grandfather insisted he’d shared a pint on more than one
occasion with a leprechaun. The old man even confessed it to the village priest.
He tapped the coin with a fingertip and Britt giggled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “That tickles.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “It does?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Yeah. I get a little buzz
from it when you touch it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> He jerked his hand back.
“Indeed.” Upon closer examination, he’d decided this coin had nothing to do
with the museum heist. He needed to concentrate on his investigation, but
something about this woman beguiled him, made him want to forget his duty.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Maybe I can help?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley shook his head in an
attempt to refocus and remember what they’d been discussing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I’m a history major. I can
help you research and stuff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> And stuff. Oh, yes, she could help him with…</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt;">stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt laughed and looked
delighted. “You’re blushing!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Aye, that I am. Ye’ve caught
me, cailín, with my mind anywhere but where it should be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Good.” She leaned across the
table and whispered, “Then kiss me again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> By dinnertime, Riley had
moved Britt into his room, totally smitten by her. They’d even managed a bit of
research in between kissing and other more pleasurable pursuits. Convinced
Britt’s lucky charm had nothing to do with the stolen loot, Riley faced making
the phone call to his supervisor. He had nothing to report and figured he’d be
ordered back to London. But he didn’t want to go alone. The whole situation
with Britt was crazy. A man didn’t fall in love out of the blue. And neither
did a woman, though the girl seemed just as gobsmacked as him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> They’d agreed to meet at
Finnagan’s for a bite to eat so Riley occupied the same bar stool. So much had
changed in twenty-four hours. Aidan greeted him with a Guinness and a smirk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Back again, eh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I am. And waitin’ fer the
lady.” Riley noted the bartender’s quirked eyebrow. “And speakin’ of, you’ll be
keepin’ yer hands an’ yer eyes t’yerself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan shrugged. “I’m not
interested in the fluff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Yer wantin’ the gold around
her neck.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The bartender chuckled but
the sound held more darkness than amusement. “’Tis a curious piece, doncha
think? With a bit o’luck, it’ll return to its rightful owner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Riley bristled. “What’s that
supposed t’mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Aidan shoved another Guinness
in front of him. “It means what it means. Do ye love the girl? Enough to fight
for her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “What the bloody—” Before he
could finish his question, a ruckus at the front caused him to swivel around. A
man had a death grip on Britt’s arm as his fist wrapped around her medallion.
Riley didn’t even think. He simply leaped into action. Before he could take a
deep breath, he’d crossed the room, peeled the man off Britt, and hit him with
a haymaker even as he dodged a clumsy punch delivered by the guy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> The chain around Britt’s neck
broke and the gold coin rolled toward the bar. “My lucky charm!” She scrambled
after it while Riley wrestled with her attacker.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> He subdued the man, and
within minutes, two Sedona police officers arrived. After official stories were
exchanged, they marched the man off to jail and Riley could do what he’d wanted
from the moment he saw Britt in danger—take her in his arms, holding her
against his chest where he knew she was safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “Are ye all right then,
love?” Riley murmured against her hair, which indeed shone with golden
highlights. Her Irish moss green eyes smiled up at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> “I am now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> He dipped his head and kissed
her. “As am I.” His voice teased her lips. “Ye nearly scared me out of year’s
life, though, love. I think we’ll be puttin’ yer lucky charm under lock and
key.” His arms tightened around her. “I know it’s too soon, but I’m not a man
to beat around the bush. Maybe it is magic. All I know is that I love ye, cailín, and I want ye to be comin’ back
to London with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Britt rocked up on her
tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you, too, Riley MacDermot.” She offered a cheeky
grin. “I don’t think I need it anymore because I have the feeling you’re my
lucky charm now.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And you know what they say about lucky charms being magically delicious...<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 19px;">”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Neither Britt nor Riley saw
the flash that shimmered around Britt’s pocket or the look on the bartender’s
face as the gold coin appeared in his hand. He curled his long fingers around it.
“Aye, an’ the luck of the Irish to ye both,” he called to them. “And may ye
live happily ever after.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Silver Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15606837105470988646noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-4007542546615857422013-03-11T01:47:00.000-05:002013-03-11T18:02:05.512-05:00The Start of the Rainbow<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDb02Ev1JfCXdyET5NCoC5kkxL-rOFx06YfbSEY_EqOtt8ed-2Lsqama_96YvQWdu7YtvbqFBv5MBruBvCZlojBq6uW0GXRi0u0UwKmdeZ8kv_AxZis9ssSOxyOgeqbu4iTQUL823yHrE/s1600/CountessCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDb02Ev1JfCXdyET5NCoC5kkxL-rOFx06YfbSEY_EqOtt8ed-2Lsqama_96YvQWdu7YtvbqFBv5MBruBvCZlojBq6uW0GXRi0u0UwKmdeZ8kv_AxZis9ssSOxyOgeqbu4iTQUL823yHrE/s200/CountessCover.jpg" width="124" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>(Author's
Note: St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite holidays! I loved the
chance to get to celebrate with some of my best writing friends, and
to revisit the world of my Laurel McKee RITA-nominated “Daughters
of Erin” trilogy. Hope you enjoy it too! For more info visit me
at<a href="http://ammandamccabe.com/"> http://ammandamccabe.com</a>)</i></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Start of the Rainbow</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">by </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">Just
outside Dublin, 1802</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Diolain!</i></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Lady
Allison Bennett ran as fast as her slippered feet could take her out
of the tiny back room of the Rose and Shamrock, her head bowed so no
one could see her ridiculous blushes. She was a blasted fool for
falling in love when it was obvious those feelings would never be
returned.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Lady
Allison!” Aidan, the barkeep at the Rose and Shamrock, shouted
after her as she scurried past.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Aidan
was a light-hearted, witty man, one she usually enjoyed sharing a
pint and a tale of ancient Ireland with after meetings of the Celtic
Society. It meant one less hour she had to be at home with her
family on Green Street, one less hour she had to pretend to be
someone she wasn't. Lady Allison Bennett, prim and proper debutante,
earl's daughter, the quiet sister, the bookish one. No one at the
Rose an shamrock cared about such things, and she loved them for it.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> But
tonight she was in no mood for Aidan's teasing. She couldn't bear
for anyone else to see her tears.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She
kept running, grateful that Aidan had too many thirsty customers
waiting for their pints to follow her. Outside the warm, crowded,
noisy tavern, a cold wind hit her in the face and tugged at her blue
muslin skirts and cashmere shawl. Its chill seemed to wake her up
and her head cleared a bit.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She
walked away from the pub, leaving the echo of its laughter behind
until all she could hear was the rustle of that wind through the
trees. The Rose and Shamrock was on the main road out of Dublin, a
favorite stopping spot for the mail coaches that ran past every day
but far enough from the city that it felt isolated, set alone except
for a few scattered cottages. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Beyond
was a thick, dark stretch of woods, rumored to be the haunt of
highwaymen. And of banshees, leprechauns, and the ghosts of the
rebels of '98. Such tales kept the more nervous travelers far
away—and usually the British authorities too. They were busy
enough chasing rumored rebels in the city.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> All
that made the Rose and Shamrock the perfect place for secret meetings
of the Celtic Society. The Society had been banned after the rising
of '98, even though it was a group of scholars and writers, most of
them far too wrapped up in their studies to take the time to foment
rebellions. Just the fact that they studied and wrote about the
history and culture of Ireland, the heroic myths and legendary
warriors and poets, was enough to get them banned in such powder-keg
dangerous days. Many of the '98 leaders were inspired by work done
by the Celtic Society.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison
came to it through her friend Lady Caroline Blacknall. Once Caro
found out Allison hoped to write a novel about ancient Ireland, she
insisted on bringing Allison to the meeting.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> And
that was where she met </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>him</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">.
Sir Finnegal Adams. Finn. The most handsome, most brilliant man in
Ireland.</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> The
pub door swung open and two drunks straggled out, singing at the top
of their soused lungs. Allison hurried away, finding the narrow
pathway that led into the woods. It was late enough that the moon
was rising in the dusty-black sky. Its chalky-yellow rays lit her
way between the trees. She wasn't afraid of the night, of the
skeletal clack of the wind through the branches. No one had ever
hurt her at the Rose and Shamrock. The place seemed surrounded by a
blanket of safety, of magic, just like the glorious tales the Celtic
Society shared in the small back room.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> No,
the woods held no danger for her. Only her own heart could do that.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Allison
thought of Finn, of his thick, untidy sweep of golden curls and his
bright blue eyes. His tall, lean figure and strong shoulders. He
</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>was</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
handsome, ridiculously so, like a hero in a saga. But more than
that, he was brilliant, one of the youngest professors at Trinity
University. He was the son of an Anglo-Irish baron, but his passion
was with Ireland, as Allison's was.</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Tonight
he spoke to the Celtic Society about Cuchulain and Maeve, and as he
paced the length of the back room in front of that strange, tiny
green door, his whole being seemed to crackle with energy and
emotion. His passion for the story inspired it in everyone else as
well, making them jump up from their seats and applaud as if they
were at a cricket match.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> And
then Finn's bright blue gaze landed on Allison—and she was filled
with the wild yearning to kiss him.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fool,
fool</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">, she
cursed herself as she ran into the woods. She kicked out at a fallen
log and pain rushed up her leg, making her feel even more silly.
Yes, she had shared a pint at the Rose and Shamrock with Finn before,
they had talked about the Irish myths they loved. Once or twice, she
even hopefully imagined his stare lingered on her as hers did with
him.</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> But
then he would turn away. And she feared she wasn't the sort of wife
a man like him needed. Her family scoffed at intellectual pursuits;
it was why she herself had to escape them so often. They couldn't
help his career as other families could. And she was certainly no
great beauty, with her plain brown hair and freckled nose, her brown
eyes.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Yet
still that longing to kiss him was there, stronger than ever.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fool!</i></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison
whirled around, her foot flying out as if she would kick something
again. Suddenly she froze at the sight that greeted her.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> In
the center of a small, tight ring of trees was a half-open trunk that
she could have sworn was not there before. A ray of moonlight
gleamed on dull gold piled inside.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Hardly
daring to breathe, Allison tiptoed closer and knelt down beside the
trunk. She could hardly feel the damp earth seeping through her thin
muslin skirt, or feel the chilly wind pulling at her hair. She only
saw the astonishing sight in front of her.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> It
</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>was</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
gold, coins it looked like, a large hoard of them. She carefully
picked one up and examined it in the moonlight. It looked very old,
a profile image etched on one side and strange letters on the other.
Symbolic images she didn't recognize from her studies marched around
the beveled edge, which was nearly worn smooth.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> They
weren't English coins. Could they be some kind of ancient Celtic
treasure? But what was it doing here?</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison
glanced over her shoulder, suddenly nervous as she remembered the
stories of highwaymen. She knew she couldn't carry the whole trunk
herself, but she longed to know what the coins could be. And she
knew exactly who could tell her.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Finn.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison
quickly scooped up as many coins as she could fit in her hand, and
ran as fast as her feet could carry her back to the pub.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">**</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Blast it all, man! Where did she go?” Finn Adams
demanded of Aidan the barkeep. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Neall said she ran out of here
like the hounds of hell were chasing her.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Aidan shrugged as he wiped down a glass, but there was
a flicker of worry in his eyes. “It's not my job to chase down
gentry ladies who are in a rare state and need their smelling salts,
now is it? I tried to call out to her, but she just kept running.
Probably just wanted a nip of air.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Finn felt a hot wave of worry and anger wash over him,
and he curled his hands into tight fists to hold it back. To stay
calm. He couldn't help Allison if he was in a fury. “It's dark as
Hades out there tonight, and I know her carriage hasn't come yet.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “She'll be back,” Aidan said, but then there was
that quickly-vanished flash of worry again. It wasn't like him, and
made Finn even more concerned.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “I'm going to find her.” Finn spun around on his
heel and ran out the door past a group of new arrivals, leaving the
roar of laughter and drunken chatter behind as he hurried into the
night. Cold wind tore at his coat, biting through the thick tweed,
but he hardly noticed.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> He only knew he had to find Allison.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Dear, sweet, beautiful Allison.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She was nowhere to be seen outside the pub or along the
roadway. As a gray, wispy cloud scurried in front of the moon,
casting strange shadows on the ground, he started toward the woods.
Something told him that he would find her there.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Ever since the first time he saw Allison, the day Lady
Caroline Blacknall brought her to a Celtic Society meeting, Finn had
felt the strangest connection to her. It seemed as if he'd seen her
smile before, heard her laugh, touched her hand. The times when she
stayed after a meeting to talk to him and share a pint—he looked
forward to those with a schoolboyish eagerness that should have
appalled him. Somehow it just made him smile, as did Allison.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> And those fleeting hours, the kiss on the cheek when
they parted, were no longer nearly enough. He'd decided that very
night to declare himself to her. He knew her family wouldn't think
him good enough, a professor and scholar, but if Allison would have
him he knew he could surmount any obstacle.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> He'd seen the way she looked at him, the shy glances,
the smiles, the lingering touch of her hand on his over the bar.
He'd dared hope she returned his feelings. He even determined to
declare himself that night.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> But then she ran out of the meeting so fast, not
stopping to speak to anyone, not looking at him. It was as if she
guessed his purpose—and did not like it.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> He had to find her now. It wasn't safe for her to be
alone in the woods. And if she had run there to avoid him...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">\</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> He could never forgive himself.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Lady Allison!” he shouted. His voice echoed back
to him. “Where are you?”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> For a long moment there was nothing but silence, heavy
and ominous. Then a small voice answered at last.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “I'm here!”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Finn stopped on the path and heard the rustle of
running footsteps through fallen leaves. Allison burst between two
trees, the splintered rays of moonlight shining on her pale gown.
She looked at him with a radiant smile on her face, and Finn knew he
had never seen anything more beautiful. All his worry was replaced
in that instant by golden happiness.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> He
ran to her and caught her up in his arms, twirling her around and
around as they laughed. He reveled in the warm, sweet </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>life</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
of her against him, the fact that she was safe and here, in his arms
at last. She wrapped her own arms around his neck, and he bent his
head to kiss her. Really kiss her, finally.</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She tasted of cool night air, of smoky dark tea, and of
some sweetness that could only be Allison alone. She was
perfect—they were perfect together, just as he'd known they could
be. Their mouths and bodies seemed to fit, as if they were made to
be together just like that.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Oh, Finn...” she sighed as his lips traced the
softness of her cheek. “I never thought it could be—that you
felt like I did...”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Neither did I,” he answered hoarsely. “I love
you, Allison. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Her arms tightened around his neck. Her eyes shimmered
bright as she looked up at him in the moonlight. “You love me?”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “I think I always have. I used to think such notions
as love at first sight were absurd...”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison laughed, a wonderful, sunny sound that banished
all the cold. “Me, too. Until now. Oh, Finn. I love you too.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Finn laughed with her, happier than he'd ever thought
he could be. As he pulled her close again, he suddenly felt a heavy
weight drop onto his boot.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Oh!” Allison cried. She knelt down and scooped up
the strange object from the ground. “I almost forgot. This was
what I came running to tell you. I found these in the woods.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She held out her hand, and Finn saw the dull glint of
gold against her pale skin. “What are they?” he asked.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “I don't know. They look terribly old. I thought
perhaps you had seen something like it before.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> She shivered, and Finn's concern for her was greater
than his curiosity about her strange find in the woods.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Let's go inside and take a closer look,” he said.
He slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned against him as
they made their way back to the Rose and Shamrock.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “There you are,” Aidan said with a laugh as Finn
helped Allison onto one of the high stools by the bar next to their
friend Neall. “Knew you wouldn't go far.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Of course not,” Allison answered happily. “Finn
found me.”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “So it seems,” Aidan said with a wink.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “And it seems Lady Allison found something as well,”
Finn said.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Yes, these were in the woods.” Allison laid one
of the coins on the scarred wooden surface of the bar. “What do
you suppose they are?”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “Where did you get that?” Aidan said, his voice
strangely furious and deep, like the swirl of a gathering storm over
the sea.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Allison looked up, her mouth parted and eyes wide as if
she was startled, and everyone around them grew quiet with surprise.
Aidan was never furious, even when fights broke out and furniture got
smashed. Teasing and joking, yes, mischievous sometimes, but not
angry. Especially not with ladies.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> What was it about the coin?</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> “I—I told you,” Allison stammered. “In the
woods. I only wanted to know what they were...”</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> Her words were drowned out by the sudden bang of the
door slamming open. No one was there, but a rush of cold wind swept
through the pub, overturning glasses and carrying away caps and
scarves. Newspapers scattered across the dusty wooden floor.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"> And when Finn and Allison looked back to the bar, the
coin was vanished. And so was Aidan.</span></div>
Amanda McCabe/Amanda Carmack/Laurel McKeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15575437197334661544noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7540270324082475395.post-15355939068506165412013-03-10T16:01:00.000-05:002013-03-23T19:19:07.972-05:00LUCK OF THE IRISH <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">
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</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 24pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 22pt;"><span style="color: #e69138;">What's worse than a leprechaun
who has lost his pot of gold? A leprechaun banished to Sedona, Arizona until he
can find it and get it back. Will his leprechaun magic create mayhem or will
he, and all those who cross his path, be lucky in love?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 22pt;">Follow the tales of lost
leprechaun gold as the Wild Okie Writers present the LUCK OF THE IRISH series
to celebrate St. Patrick's Day by clicking on the chapter titles in the sidebar.</span></span></span></span><br />
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</span><br />Wild Okie Authorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12980406393389756827noreply@blogger.com0