by Anna Windsor
Jack felt crazy again, but this time, it was crazy-happy.
He could definitely get used to crazy-happy.
He’d been on the island less than three hours, but all of his dreams were about to come true. Andy stood a few feet away from him with Dio, her maid of honor. Andy wore a simple white dress, strapless with soft lines that showed off her knockout figure. She had a pearl and shell necklace, bare feet, a bracelet and anklet made out of white star-shaped flowers that seemed to be growing all over the island, and a crown of the same flowers draped over her rich red curls.
Jack had on jeans and a white shirt he had borrowed from Saul. At least the shirt was pressed. At least Saul had combed his hair into a neat ponytail. He stood beside Jack, his tattooed hand resting firmly on Ethan Lowell’s shoulder. The little fellow wore such a solemn expression it almost made Jack laugh, but the boy had a death grip on the little black box with Andy’s ring—a two-carat natural blue diamond set in white gold, as rare and intricate as she was. Jack had been gratified to see that the stone mirrored the lighter shades of the ocean surrounding the mountain. He’d gotten the matching men’s band, just in case, hoping for the best. Andy had been glad for his foresight.
Meant to be, she had told him as she lay naked in his arms, gazing at the rings he had picked out while he rubbed and kissed her belly and whispered to the little girl already growing inside her.
Meant to be.
Jack had never let himself believe in that kind of sap, but he embraced it now. Bring on the sap, damn it. He felt like a man who had stepped into the best dream of his life and he never, ever wanted to wake.
Andy’s quad and the adepts and seemingly the entire island had decorated the base of the caldera in tropical flowers, and strands of twinkling lights rose along the slopes, straight into the sunbathed sky. Jack waited with Andy inside a flower-laced entrance to the basin as onlookers formed groups and made a path for them, a path leading to Elana, who as eldest Mother on the island and perhaps the oldest priestess on the planet next to Ona, waited on a carpet of flower petals to join them forever.
“They’re here,” Dio said to Andy, and Andy immediately turned to Jack.
He was surprised to see the nervousness on her face.
He moved to her and drew her against him, worried as he brushed his lips across hers, tasting honey and mint and woman, and breathing in that sweet vanilla-and-ocean smell he had come to love so much. “Second thoughts, sweetheart?”
“No. But there’s something I want you to do for me before all this gets started.” She touched his cheek with her fingertips and seemed even more nervous.
“Name it.”
Andy managed a smile. “Go find Camille. She has something for you, okay? Something from me.”
Okay. That was strange, but if it would make her feel better, he was all over it. Jack turned Andy loose and headed through the archway, passing by Cynda and Nick, who were both busy encouraging a too-excited Neala not to torch all the flower petals she was supposed to scatter in front of Andy when she walked down the aisle.
A minute or so later, Jack spotted Camille standing with Bela, Duncan, and John near the front, a few yards away from Elana. He walked straight up to them, wondering what the hell was going on, and that’s when he saw the two women standing with them.
The younger one of the pair was dark-headed and nervous-looking. The older woman had gray hair, neatly trimmed against her lined but pretty face. Both women had great big brown eyes.
Eyes he knew.
Eyes he stared at each morning in the mirror.
Oh, God.
Jack stopped.
His mother and sister broke into sobs and smiles and threw themselves into his arms before he even had a chance to grasp what was happening.
“Sibyls have amazing archives,” Camille was saying. “I didn’t take any chances tracking them down or do anything to tip their identity to the human world, I promise. I can bring them to the island safely anytime you guys want to see each other. Nobody here will ever reveal their identity.”
Jack barely heard her. He kissed the top of his mother’s head, then Ginger’s, holding them tight so they couldn’t vanish. His chest ached as one of the deepest, darkest holes in his heart stitched itself shut and finally, finally, finally started to heal.
His mother pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. “Thank you for our life,” she said. “For our safety. For all your sacrifices. I can’t wait to meet this special woman of yours. I can’t wait to get to know her—and you.”
“I’m still me,” Jack said, and he realized that for the first time in his adult life, he really was himself, fully and completely, all of his secrets thrown aside or shared—or just not necessary anymore. He felt as clear as the ocean outside the mountain.
Ginger grinned at him, and Jack felt years peeling off his life, shedding off his soul. For a few seconds, he was seventeen again, plotting to ruffle her hair to tick her off and make her laugh. “So,” she said, her grown-up voice startling him back to the here and now. “You gonna marry this chick, or what?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, messing up his sister’s hair and knowing it was a sacred privilege he’d always honor. “You wait right here and watch.”
And they did watch, his mother and his sister and all the friends he had in the world, as Jack walked back to the basin entry and kissed Andy, and kissed her again. Then he made his way back down the aisle with Saul and waited with Elana, less than patient, for Dio to make her walk. Ethan followed, holding the black box in his small, shaking hands. Neala came next, laughing and smoking and scattering burning flower petals all over the ground as the crowd hummed and sang something light and tropical and just right for the moment.
When Andy started toward Jack, her smile told him everything.
I want you.
I love you.
My life and your life, joined from this point forward, and even death won’t end us.
“I’m yours,” he told her a few moments later as he slid the blue diamond onto her finger. “And you’re mine.”
“Yes,” she whispered as he kissed her and Elana said the words to seal what Jack already knew, what he already felt at a level so deep nothing could ever shake it.
“I’ll be here,” he told Andy, then lifted her off her feet and turned to face the cheering crowd. “I’ll be right here beside you, now and forever.”
Of all the characters I have ever written, Andy Myles has gotten the most reaction. From emails and letters about her to emails and letters to her, Andy has garnered quite a bit of attention. She really struck a chord with female readers, perhaps because she’s smart, strong, fiery, and honest—soft and wounded, but also strong as good Southern steel. Writing her story brought me both joy and sorrow. I’m glad she’s gotten her tale, but sorry I won’t get to look forward to it any longer. For all the readers who care for Andy, this is for you. I hope you get lost in her world and never want to leave.
Thanks to my family for doing without me while I followed Andy’s path. Thanks to my friend Judy for long walks that helped me think. Thanks to my friend Chris for being funny and fixing stuff so I never lost my mind. Thanks to my readers where I work, for bugging me about when the story would be written.
To my editor, Kate Collins, I’m glad Andy and Jack surprised you, and as always, you helped me to make the story stronger. Kelli, you’re still keeping me in line and on target. Beth, I owe you and your entire staff much gratitude for all your patience related to my map-reading impairment. I’m so glad you guys have eagle eyes … and a good sense of direction.
And Nancy—how much chocolate do I owe you now? I have to be getting toward a truckload.
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