Forever Bold: Forever Bluegrass #15

by Kathleen Brooks

  “That’s more than I deserve. I’m sorry for my father’s role in hurting you.”

  Ariana nodded her head and then watched Deming leave her house.

  “You okay?” Jameson asked her. Ariana nodded, but there were so many emotions running through her that she needed time to process them all. Viktor Nikan and his assistant were dead. The Dukes were in custody. She was safe.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s get you to your room for a little rest.” Ariana slipped her hand through her mother’s arm and turned to leave.

  “Jameson,” her father said quietly.

  “I’ll bring up lunch,” Jameson told her before the doors to the office closed between them.

  “What’s going on?” Ariana asked.

  “I think your father wanted to see if Jameson was okay after the news of his parents.”

  “That’s nice of him.” Ariana took a deep breath. Some of the weight began to lift. “I have ten days before the UN. I’d better get to work. Maybe Veronica and Sydney can join us in my sitting room for lunch and we can make sure we have everything in order for my speech.” Ariana shook her head. “No, I need a new speech. I don’t like talking about what happened, but soon everyone will know. I will need to tell my side of the story. Show how if a princess can be taken, a young girl on the way to school can be taken even more easily.”

  Purpose. Ariana felt the purpose fill her body and soul. She would and she could make a difference. Nothing and no one was going to stop her.

  Jameson turned to see that the room had emptied out and Mo was moving to his desk.

  “Have a seat.” Jameson sat down in the leather chair across the desk from Mo. “I know all this is upsetting, and I wasn’t sure about the timing, but I thought you’d be the best one to decide.”

  “To decide what, sir?” Jameson asked.

  “Call me Mo for now.” Mo reached into his desk and pulled out a large, old-looking box that barely fit in the palm of his hand. He held it out and Jameson took it. “Later I hope you can call me Dad.”

  Jameson opened the lid and looked inside. A stunning radiant-cut emerald with a halo of diamonds around it shone up at him. “I can’t take this. It’s too much.”

  “King’s orders. It’s to be passed down through your and Ari’s family. Our grandmother was ahead of her time. She was strong, fearless, and loved by all. This ring celebrates that. When my grandfather met her, he was instantly taken and immediately proposed. The ring is over a hundred years old and it’s ready to be worn again.”

  Jameson stared at the ring. The full force of the gift hit him and he slumped in his chair. “I’ve lost my parents. I wasn’t ever close to them, but we had our shared family history. My aunts, uncles, and cousins are just as ruthless as my parents. I have no one. I won’t have the family jewels to give to Ariana. My mother will make sure they, and everything else, go to my cousins. I won’t have a proud mother or father at the wedding. I’m all alone with nothing but a soon to be disgraced name.” Jameson looked up at Mo. “Why would you let me marry your daughter?”

  Mo stood up and walked around the desk until he leaned against it in front of Jameson. “You’re not alone. You have two brothers, two sisters, a niece, and more little ones on the way. When and if you’re ever comfortable with it, you’ll have a mother and father. Not by birth, but who will love you all the same. You’ll have our family history because it will become your family history. And you don’t want to know how many distant aunts, uncles, and cousins you’ll have. Also, I’ve talked to my brother. You’ll have the ability to speak with your parents whenever you’d like if you need or want to.”

  Jameson closed the lid and pocketed the ring. Ariana and he would start their own family. They would set a good example of service, love, and honor. Together, he and Ariana would nurture the next generation and celebrate every accomplishment, big or small, they had because they’d be together. Together with the Ali Rahman family, with the town of Keeneston, and with the massive Davies family, they would give their children unconditional love. Their kids would never be at a sporting event with no one there to cheer for them. They’d never spend the holidays alone at boarding school. The shadows of the past began to fade with all the hope of the future.

  “Thank you, Dad.” Jameson stood and hugged Mo. “Now I just have to propose.”

  32

  United Nations Human Rights Council, New York City . . .

  “The chair recognizes the ambassador from Rahmi, Her Royal Highness Ariana Ali Rahman.”

  Ariana stood up and took a deep breath as she made her way to the podium in the committee room. Jameson stood along the back wall with the other bodyguards and a few assistants. He winked at her and Ariana forgot her nerves as she began to speak.

  She told the countries how they were failing their people. She told them how she was kidnapped and how Nikan attempted to traffic her as a bride. “Crusina is like many of the countries here, an absolute dictatorship, where citizens can simply disappear. Even a princess. You must do better and that starts with being better. You sit on this committee for human rights when you yourselves are blatant violators of your citizens’ rights.”

  Ariana saw the anger. She saw the denial. She saw the disregard several of the countries showed her.

  “Some of the countries sitting here today made backroom deals to run unopposed to fill the seats on this council. It’s an embarrassment that countries here today that are full members of the Human Rights Council have used rape as a war tactic, have killed their own citizens for disagreeing with the government, denied citizens basic freedoms, trafficked and enslaved their people, and many more horrible crimes against innocent men, women, and children. In fact, the country that kidnapped me and tried to have me trafficked sits on this council. Tell me, how is that right? How are we helping the defenseless when we’ve let the proverbial fox into the henhouse? The fox will never be held accountable while in charge. Well, that’s about to stop. I may be one voice, but I will hold you accountable. I will tell the stories of your people and I will do everything in my power to protect them.”

  Anger erupted. Insults were hurled at her in multiple languages, but Ariana stood resolute. Jameson stood ready to protect her at a moment’s notice when Deming Nikan rose to speak.

  “My father and his government were guilty of many of those crimes. Last week I opened the borders of Crusina, welcomed international oversight into the country, and I am working to establish legal protection for my citizens. Crusina stands with Princess Ariana and her work.”

  Then another man stood. “Bermalia stands with Princess Ariana.”

  A woman stood then. “Surman stands with Princess Ariana.”

  “Tilland stands with Princess Ariana.”

  “Murraway stands with Princess Ariana.”

  Ariana watched as the members who fought for human rights stood one by one in support. There were still way too many people who remained seated in anger, but it was a start. With a nod of thanks to her supporters, she stepped down from the podium.

  Ariana remained until the meeting was called to an end. The second the gavel hit, she was swarmed, not by angry countries, but by supporters. Jameson stood watching over her as she gathered strong allies who were all eager to help. She was no longer one woman going it alone. Ambassadors, presidents, prime ministers, kings, and queens stood by her side as they left the UN united in their mission.

  “Princess,” Deming said softly, stopping her as she got ready to get into her car. Deming bowed his head. “Once again, I am so sorry.”

  The anger Ariana had been feeling since the kidnapping left in a harsh exhale, leaving her in a rush. “Thank you for supporting me today.”

  “I will always support you. I was never like my father but raised by my mother. A mother who died at my father’s hand for trying to protect our citizens. I didn’t learn that until I saw the tapes Jameson and his team recorded. Trust me when I say it changes you. I just wanted to say, congratulations and you have an ally in
Crusina.”

  Ariana held out her hand and Deming seemed surprised, but then he reached for it. She shook his hand and smiled. “I’m happy to have you as my ally, Deming. Have a good night.”

  It seemed to take hours for Ariana to come back down to earth. Her phone rang constantly. Uncle Dirar called to praise her speech as several countries had already reached out to him to work together on human rights, trade deals, and more. He was holding a meeting with Rahmi’s Elected Council tomorrow to discuss the calls. Through it all, Jameson quietly supported her. Dinner had magically appeared along with a kiss to the top of her head as she spoke to a prime minister. Shortly after, decaf coffee made just the way she wanted appeared with another kiss as she worked into the night.

  “Jameson?” Ariana asked as she came out of the office in the Rahmi apartment they were staying in once again.

  “In here.”

  Ariana followed his voice to the living room. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket. Her favorite dessert from the Blossom Café was on the coffee table, and Jameson was leaning back on the couch working on his tablet.

  “What’s all this?” Ariana asked as she took a seat next to him. Jameson set down his tablet and kissed her. It was one of those nice, long, searing kisses that had her melting into him.

  “I thought we should celebrate. You were magnificent today. Veronica sent a press release with your full speech to all the major news organizations around the world. They’ve all linked to Daughters of Elizabeth charity as well. I’m sure they’re seeing a surge of donations.”

  “Good. Several countries have given permission for us to open offices there. I think I want to do more, though,” Ariana said. The idea has been slowly forming in her mind since all her research began. “I want to start my own charity. Although, it’s more like an umbrella for other charities. I want to create a place that all charities working for human rights can join to work together, to apply for grants, and to have a united voice. I can use that platform to lobby heads of states on their behalf.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

  Ariana worried her lower lip. Something else that had been on her mind was all Jameson was giving up. He’d lost his family. The Rahmi royal family was suing the Duke family civilly and Jameson’s parents were now sitting in a Rahmi jail. He’d lost his job when he came to rescue her. He’d been offered various positions with agencies since then, including going back to Special Forces, but he’d turned them all down. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Jameson asked as he moved to pop the champagne.

  “I’ve been lucky enough to find what I’m passionate about. What about you? I mean, I’d love for you to be my head of security, but I don’t think that’s what you’re passionate about.”

  “I’m working on something. I’ll let you know when I have it all figured out. But I have figured out one thing. Although it wasn’t very hard to do,” he said with a big smile on his face.

  Ariana laughed at his obvious excitement. “What’s that?”

  She stopped laughing when Jameson slid from the couch and onto one knee. He reached behind a decorative pillow on the couch and pulled out a vintage ring box. Jameson opened it and Ariana gasped with shock. Inside was her great-grandmother’s ring. She recognized it from the pictures she had seen of her great-grandmother fighting for women’s rights in Rahmi back in the early nineteen hundreds. She’d challenged her own husband to change the laws and had eventually won. She was fiercely protective of her husband, her children, and her country, but believed there was always room for improvement through discussion and education.

  “I’ve been researching your great-grandmother and talking to your father and uncle about her since your uncle gave me this ring,” Jameson said as he looked from the ring up to Ariana. “From what I’ve learned, I have no doubt that today she was by your side as you spoke the truth, without fear, to that council. I love that about you. I love your fierce determination. I love that you don’t back down. I love that you follow your heart. Most of all, I love that you blew my preconceived notions of princesses right out of the water so that I could fall madly, deeply, and truly in love with you. The real you. Not the pretty princess, but the woman who is sweet to old ladies who hit you with kitchenware. The woman who works endlessly to help others. The woman who rides horses, tells dirty jokes, and walks outside barefoot. The woman who has captured my heart. The woman who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Ariana, will you marry me?”

  Ariana had to blink back tears as Jameson’s face blurred. She’d never be able to tell him how much it meant to her that he included her family in the proposal, from the ring to the research. She knew her family loved Jameson as much as she did.

  “Yes, now and always.”

  Ariana took a deep breath as Jameson slid the ring onto her finger.

  “I love you, Ari,” Jameson rose up and kissed her. Ari never wanted the kiss to end and luckily Jameson knew it. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. The phones rang, the emails poured in, but she didn’t hear a thing because when they made love, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

  Epilogue

  Keeneston, six months later . . .

  Jameson wrung his fingers as the noise of the arriving guests echoed all around him. The door to the study opened and Father Ben walked in. “Not to make you nervous, but there are a lot of people here. I even saw President Stratton.”

  “Thanks, Ben,” Jameson said drily. His friend had recovered after emergency surgery. It had been a long and painful path, but he was back to himself once again.

  The door opened and Mo and King Dirar walked in. “We’re almost ready for you,” Mo told him. “And my brother has some good news.”

  King Dirar was an intimidating man, but he and Jameson had developed a good relationship over the past seven months. “First, the Rahmi Elected Council is very excited to welcome you to Rahmi. The REC and the people have been so impressed with your dedication to Rahmi. We’re going to hold a special ceremony when you arrive after your honeymoon.”

  “I’ve enjoyed my time in Rahmi. Ari and I are always happy to visit,” Jameson said. They’d both been traveling to Rahmi every two months as Ari was opening a Daughters of Elizabeth office there and working with her uncle on the charity she started. King Dirar also appointed her the official UN Ambassador for Rahmi. It would require them to travel to New York multiple times a year, and Jameson found he was looking forward to it.

  “I bring with me more good news. You passed your citizen’s test and I hereby deem you a full Rahmi citizen,” King Dirar said. “Also, a wedding present.”

  King Dirar handed him a thick envelope.

  “You already gave us a wedding gift. The ring is more than enough.”

  “I’ve been talking to my brother and we believe this will help with your future endeavors,” Mo told him.

  Jameson held on to the envelope and smiled at them before looking at Ben. “Ben is joining me in a volunteer capacity—an international veterans’ support network. I can’t believe how many countries have signed up for it. Your support has gone a long way,” Jameson told Dirar and Mo.

  The idea had started small. After the healing that went into talking with Ben and Dylan about the night of the ambush, Jameson knew this was what he wanted to do. He wanted to help others with the stress caused by military duty. From PTSD support, physical therapy, surgeries, money management, job training and help finding employment after the military, and needing the basic camaraderie you had during active duty once you retire. Miles Davies had been a big help and it turned into a Keeneston passion project as well. The Davies brothers, the Rahmi security, down to Aiden, Walker, Dylan, and Abby all helped make his charity a reality.

  The framework was all there. Headquarters would be in Keeneston. Aiden had helped find a location in England. Grant found one in Scotland. Ahmed had traveled with him to Rahmi and donated his old house there as a meeting center. What was un
ique was each location was available to any soldier, regardless of what country they were from. A soldier and his family could travel to Rahmi and stay there for a week. Jameson was using part of his trust to buy a farm in Keeneston to become the headquarters and offer rooms for people to book stays. Cady Woodson, the owner of the Barrel Creek Distillery, had offered up free tours. Mo would donate some riding horses. Jace would help with any medical needs. Ben would offer counseling. Poppy and Zinnia offered free breakfasts. The Keeneston Training Facility was offering a long weekend “camp” twice a year to veterans for free. It was all coming together. He hoped to have it fully up and running in about a year. He just needed to raise enough money to staff the locations and he wouldn’t mind adding some more properties as well.

  “This is a gift, although it should have been yours all along. I’m just getting it into the right hands,” Dirar told him.

  Jameson opened the envelope and blinked at the check with all the zeros after it. Then he pulled out more papers. “This is my house,” Jameson said with surprise.

  “It’s all your houses, your boats, and your money,” Mo said.

  “How?” Jameson asked in disbelief as he looked through all the legal paperwork.

  “We sued your parents in civil court. The court awarded us that amount. Instead of liquidating their assets, I had them sign everything all over to us and we signed them all over to you. It’s the entire Duke fortune. Your family history can now be used for good,” Mo told him.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Jameson said. He wouldn’t have to wait a year but could fund the charity immediately. He had five houses in Connecticut, New York City, California, Washington, D.C., and France. Plus he had enough money to staff the charity for years, even without fundraising.