by Geeta Kakade
Andrew’s gaze had already scanned those who were off the bus on the side of the road and he got on to it. He found her in nano seconds.
She was knitting and the wire dangling from her ear told him she was listening to music.
He walked up to the seat in front of her and then tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hi!” he said.
“Andrew!” She looked startled. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t go back to the convent,” he said. “Stay here. Marry me. I love you.”
She put her knitting away and pulled the wire out of her ear as if she hadn’t heard him properly.
“What did you say?”
“I love you. I cannot imagine life without you. Marry me.”
He reached out and held a hand to her. She put her hand in his and stepped into the aisle.
“Bridget?” Her name being repeated told her she hadn’t said a word.
There was pin drop silence as every passenger on the bus looked at them. Her heartbeat was a roar in her ears.
“You can have your business, you can do anything you want to in life. I’ll never interfere. Just tell me you love me and you’ll marry me.”
“I do. I will.” She’d finally found her voice but it had come out as a soft whisper.
“Yay!” The passenger in the seat in front announced to everyone. “She says she’ll marry him.”
Everyone clapped. Bridget barely heard them. Andrew had her up against his chest and he was kissing her as if he’d never stop.
“Congratulations,” some of the passengers yelled.
“She’s a looker,” one man commented.
“Best of luck,” added a woman.
“Thanks,” Andrew walked to the exit with Bridget’s hand in his. Someone handed her her bag.
“Andrew my suitcase,” she reminded him.
The driver got it for them just as the emergency vehicles pulled up behind the SUV.
The clapping and shouts of encouragement from the passengers followed Andrew and Bridget to the SUV.
Andrew and Bridget held hands and looked at each other.
By her door he took her in his arms and kissed her. She kissed him right back.
“I love you,” she repeated to Andrew.
“I love you too. Did you mean it when you said you’d marry me?”
She nodded. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Andrew did a quick U-Turn and got on the other side of the road helped by a motioning rescue worker with a huge grin on his face.
“We’ll be home in no time,” he said.
Bridget nodded, content with the direction their hearts had chosen.
“There’s no hurry,” she said.
EPILOGUE
June 2013
Bridget and Andrew were married in the chapel of St. Mary’s Convent on the first day of June.
They’d both wanted Bridget’s business to get underway and Andrew’s knee to finish healing. Andrew had gone out of his way to see they had a wonderful engagement. They’d found a single story house close to Cupid Lodge which they were renting till they found a place of their own to buy. Sheba would move in with them when they returned from their honeymoon.
As the pianist struck up, ‘Here comes the Bride’, Christy knew Bridget was one of the most beautiful brides she had seen. The white lace gown and veil from the attic collection at Cupid Lodge could have been made for her. In her hands she carried a bouquet of Toby’s fragrant red roses mixed with white calla lilies from the Convent garden.
Sister Winifred walked her down the aisle. Christy, Moira and Mrs. Kemp dressed in varying shades of blue, were her matrons of Honor. Mark and a couple of Andrew’s friends were groomsmen and all four men were in full uniform. Uncle Paul had given Andrew and Mark special permission to wear their dress blues, as that was their uniform when they had ‘officially’ retired. Unofficially they were still officers of the Marine Corps but that wasn’t public knowledge. The Government Special Task Force continued to be a top secret organization.
Frank, looking adorable in his first suit, was ring bearer. Mr. Kemp and Toby in powder blue tuxes were ushers.
As the first hymn was announced, Christy looked at the groomsmen who stood beside Mark. He had introduced them as Dr. Jacob and Captain Holt Jackson at the wedding rehearsal dinner yesterday. Dr. Jacob was in the white uniform of a Lt. Commander in the US Navy and Capt. Holt Jackson was in dress blues.
When she’d asked about them, Andrew had turned to Mark and started talking about the limos for the wedding. Then Bridget had claimed her attention with a question and she had forgotten to follow up with more questions.
Dr. Jacob’s proud bearing and the tilt of his head reminding her of someone but she couldn’t place her finger on it. Major Holt Jackson had come from Washington for the wedding. He would be working with Andrew in the future.
Andrew had a new post as Assistant Director of Intelligence. The enquiry after Phil’s transfer had resulted in a major overhaul of the Intelligence Division of the Special Task Force.
The music faded and the priest asked everyone to sit and launched into a short sermon.
Christy stole another sideways glance at the men. At six foot two Dr. Jacob was the tallest groomsman. Like Mark he had served on two tours of Afghanistan. Andrew, Mark, Dr. Jacob and Holt were very handsome in their uniforms.
She had seen Mother frown at Toby trying to place him and had felt like laughing wondering how long it would take her parent to make the connection between the man in the tux and Mr. Graves the butler who had ushered her into Cupid Lodge. Christy knew she would need luck with that explanation.
Ruth Hathaway, Mother Superior and Sister Winifred sat in the front pew on the bride’s side. Behind them were more nuns, some of the girls from the Orphanage and guests from Silver Lake. On Andrew’s side of there was General O’Keefe and his and Mark’s buddies. Mother had been very impressed by General O’Keefe at the rehearsal dinner and had invited him to Beverly Hills.
Then Christy forgot everything else as the sermon ended and the wedding service began.
Agnes sniffed and wiped her eyes.
Phillip looked at his wife, very proud that he had been instrumental in finally getting Andrew and Bridget together.
“She is a beautiful bride,” she said. “Just beautiful.”
“You always say that,” he said.
“Well there’s something special about every bride and when it is your own flesh and blood it means even more,” said Agnes. “I’m so happy she decided on that gown and the veil. It could have been tailored for her. With that lace train and veil she looks like a Princess.” She sighed happily. “And Andrew looks like a Prince.”
“Two down, one to go Ma,” Phillip reminded her. “Though it seems a pity to stop when I’m getting so good at this.”
“Agnes?” She hadn’t answered and he turned to look for her.
She was close up by the groomsmen and the tallest one rubbed his neck as if he felt cold suddenly.
“What are you doing Ma?” Phillip hissed as Agnes floated back to his side.
“I’m just thinking,” said Agnes sweetly.
“Oh no you don’t,” said her husband. “Not just yet. We have to report back first.”
“Very well Pa,” Agnes said meekly, as she floated out the door beside him.
Phillip gave her a suspicious look. That tone never boded good.
Agnes hummed to herself. She’d been at the meeting a few days ago between Mark, Andrew, Jacob, Holt and General O’Keefe and enjoyed it.
Everything was falling into place very well for their next mission. Very well indeed.
At the end of the wedding service, Bridget looked at her husband as Father Joseph the priest she had known all her life said, “You may now kiss the bride.”
As Andrew lifted her veil she saw the joy in his eyes matched her own sense of elation.
“I love you,” she whispered just before their lips met in a
kiss that sealed the promise of their vows.
Everybody clapped and then she and Andrew turned hand in hand to walk out of the church and under the majestic arch of his buddies’ swords to the car that would take them to the lunch and reception Mark and Christy were hosting in Valhalla, South Lake Tahoe.
The Valhalla Grand Hall was part of the three estates that formed the Tallac Historic site. The lodge had been built between 1923-1924 and was beautiful with a second floor balcony that overlooked the main room, extensive wood detailing, wraparound porch, enormous twenty foot stone fireplace and walk-in hearth. Bridget and Christy had fallen in love with Valhalla when they had visited the famous site last year for a show in the old converted boathouse that was now a popular theater. Mark and Christy had insisted on booking it for the wedding reception.
Bridget knew she and Andrew would take an early evening flight to a secret honeymoon destination that Andrew refused to tell her about till they were at the airport.
“Happy?” asked Andrew as she took her veil off in the limo.
“Happier than I’d ever though it was possible to be.” Bridget said, lifting her face for a kiss.
She could ask for nothing more. Her internal compass had guided her home to love and happiness.
The End
BOOK THREE
CUPID’S ARROWS
PROLOGUE
“This is your last mission,” the Recording Angel looked at Phillip.
“It’s easy now,” Phillip Cupid was unable to keep the boastful pride out of his voice.
“This will be your most challenging,” the Recording Angel had a look in his eyes that was very thoughtful.
“How so?” Phillip demanded.
“In this mission you will have to resolve the intolerance you were guilty of in your lifetime.”
“I loved my son,” Phillip maintained stubbornly. “I did not want his life ruined by an unsuitable alliance.”
The Recording Angel sighed. “You haven’t understood the full meaning of the word love and until you do you cannot move on.”
“Can I go now?”
“I’m not done,” the Recording Angel told him. “For this mission you will have a junior spirit with you whom you will have to guide.”
“Another spirit? Who?” Phillip was astounded. The attic was going to be mighty crowded and besides he liked his privacy.
“Your great, great, great grandson Stephen. He committed the same error in judgment you did and needs to repair the wrong he’s done.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t so bad if you had your flesh and blood along thought Phillip. He could teach the boy a thing or two.
“And…” The Recording Angel paused and looked down at his Book of Records.
“Yes?” Phillip wondered if he was going to be asked to run the whole country next?
“Agnes will be there but she will have her own mission to work on.”
“What mission?”
“She wants to bring two couples together instead of one this last time and will work independently of you.”
As if the woman could do anything without him.
“Bah humbug!” Phillip muttered.
CHAPTER ONE
June 2013…Bridget and Andrew’s Reception.
Bridget looked up at Andrew as they took to the dance floor to the strains of ‘As Time Goes By’.
“I feel like a princess.” The months since he’d proposed had flown by on a rose colored cloud. Andrew’s knee was fine now and he’d gone to dance lessons with her so she would be at ease on the floor at their wedding.
“You are my princess,” Andrew Blackwell’s voice was filled with love. “Today and always.”
They completed a few more turns and then Mark O’Keefe his best man and close friend tapped him on the shoulder. Andrew turned to take Mark’s wife’s hand and dance with her. Christy Cupid looked delighted that her cousin and her husband’s friend’s wedding was going so well. Valhalla, the old Swedish lodge in South Lake Tahoe looked like a setting out of fairyland today.
“Thank you and Mark for all you’ve done for Bridget and me,” Andrew told her.
“We loved putting this reception together,” Christy smiled. “Mrs. Kemp and Moira were a great help too.”
It seemed only yesterday that Bridget, an orphan, had arrived at Cupid Lodge where she’d discovered her connection to the Cupids and fallen in love with Andrew Blackwell.
It seemed like it was only the day before yesterday that Christy had discovered she had inherited Cupid Lodge and arrived there to make a life for herself and fallen in love with Mark O’Keefe.
“You all look so beautiful,” Andrew commented.
“We have Mother to thank for that,” Christy laughed. “She flew out a makeup artiste from Hollywood and insisted we all let him transform us!”
Captain Holt Jackson the third groomsman looked at the third matron of honor at the table and straightened his glasses. They were the only two at the table still seated.
He hadn’t been the same since he had seen her walk into the church. In a sky blue dress with a small bouquet of white flowers, she had looked like an angel walking in. He loved the way her dark hair was piled on the top of her head with just a few curls around her face. He hadn’t felt so strongly attracted to a woman since his divorce three years ago. His ex-wife had fallen in love with a salesman while he’d been deployed.
The music struck up again and he blinked. They couldn’t sit at the table in silence forever.
It was time to ask her to dance. “May I have the pleasure?”
She looked at him startled. “I don’t dance.”
“It’s easy,” he held his hand out. “I’ll show you.”
While they moved their feet in an easy two step on the dance floor, she looked at him. The Captain had clear hazel eyes and the really short hair that was military regulation. He was a couple of inches taller than her and well built. Andrew had mentioned he was brilliant and that he looked forward to working with Holt.
“You look very beautiful.” The Captain’s voice was husky.
Had he been drinking? Moira stiffened at the thought. Alcohol and service people had a close connection. Mark and Andrew were exceptions to that rule.
“I…I’m the housekeeper at Cupid Lodge.” Moira wanted to make it clear fine feathers didn’t change a cook into a swan. Her dress was gorgeous silk but that and the makeup and hairdo wasn’t who she really was. Christy’s mother, Ruth Hathaway with her usual extravagant generosity had insisted on paying for their three dresses.
“I know who you are,” was the surprising reply. “Mark and Christy told me you are the backbone of their Bed and Breakfast.”
Moira blushed.
The color that rushed to her face gave him the courage to go on.
“I would like to take you out tomorrow if you’re free.”
Was he asking her out on a date? Moira leaned back in his arms to look straight into his eyes, “I can’t. I have an eleven year old son and when I’m not working he’s all I have time for.”
“Well,” thought Holt as he took her back to their table, “That’s told you in no uncertain terms she has no interest in you.”
He would merely find another way to get to her.
Moira’s heart was heavy with the sadness she had to bring into her son Frank’s life. He was only eleven and she hated telling him about his father’s letter. She’d put it off till after Bridget and Andrew’s wedding, coming up with a thousand excuses, hiding the letter Hank had sent her in January. Her mind sped back to the awful day she had woken to find Hank had taken all their savings and disappeared. Threatened with eviction, Moira had gone door to door begging for work. It seemed like a miracle even now that Christy had taken Moira and Frank in, saying she had no money but she could give them a roof over their heads and food. Moira and Frank had never lacked for anything since they moved into Cupid Lodge and thoughts of her abusive, drunken husband had receded into the background.
Hank had written
eventually. He had gone to Alaska where he’d found work and was making a great deal of money. He wanted his wife and child to join him. Moira had refused telling her husband she didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past. She wouldn’t join him till he stopped drinking and joined a twelve-step program to help him stay sober.
The letter that she’d got in January said he wanted a divorce. He had met a widow with two children last September when he had joined Alcoholics Anonymous. They were living together, wanted to get married and start a new life together.
As far as Moira was concerned she’d felt nothing but relief that the decision had been taken out of her hands, but she didn’t know how it would affect Frank.
She would tell Christy and Mark, Bridget and Andrew, Toby the gardener at Cupid Lodge, and the Kemps, a couple who had moved in as permanent lodgers; all the people her son was close to at Cupid Lodge before she told her son, knowing they would help him in every way.
Moira hoped Frank wouldn’t blame her for what had happened.
General O’Keefe watched Christy dance with her husband his mind on the meeting the Special Investigative Task Force had a couple of days ago. He wondered how his personal pleas would impact the lives of those he’d asked for help with on this next mission. His thoughts hit the rewind button.
General O’Keefe looked around the group in the room.
There was Mark, his nephew, a Marine. Andrew Blackwell, Assistant Director of Intelligence who had just passed his first undercover assignment with flying colors thanks in part to his fiancée Bridget. Andrew had eighteen years of service in counter intelligence had stood him in good stead on the last assignment. There were two new additions to the special task force; Lt. Commander Jacob Lightfoot, a naval psychiatrist and Captain Holt Jackson, a signals intelligence analyst who would be Andrew’s assistant.
Helping Homeland Security was a high priority of the task force but in the last couple of years the General had also been asked to watch the top brass doing their jobs to see it was being done properly. Bribery and corruption and other wrongdoings were coming to light and had to be squashed immediately.
