"Not today," Bryan whispered, suddenly grinning like a young boy who had just found his pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. "With the technology today, we can take this to a lab and extract the seeds without damage."
All four looked at each other as the realization set in… for in those dark, dry seeds lay the dormant energy of life, of hope.
Mairie looked into Jack's eyes and smiled. Her mission of love was complete. And Jack suddenly realized that hope, like love, really is eternal.
You never give up.
Life, anywhere you find it, is essentially good.
Epilogue
Hope.
Sitting on the wrap-around porch of the large ranch house, she deeply inhaled the early summer air and relaxed. Rolling green hills as far as the eyes could see, sparsely dotted with evergreens, painted an awesome picture. In the distance were majestic mountains with lingering caps of snow before an unclouded blue sky for a backdrop. It was pristine splendor and she knew she was blessed to behold it. The purity entered her lungs with a sweetness she appreciated, and she couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face.
It was such a great story and she couldn't share it, except with the handful of people who had participated… and they reminisced about the incredible circumstances whenever they were together. Tonight, she was sure that Bryan or Marc would bring up something, some memory, and they would all settle back to time travel. Back to six years ago, when it had all started.
She rocked slowly, enjoying the gentle sway, as she privately time-traveled through the chain of events that had led to all of them being gathered together again tonight. Who would have thought that writing a novel about the Civil War would have been such a blockbuster? That the movie rights would have enabled them to buy this ranch in Wyoming, to develop the seeds into plants and a natural vitamin supplement, to own the patent and split the royalties with the Indian nations? To sit on the board of a foundation?
It never failed to amaze her. Her smile widened as she looked down to the letterhead of the document she was holding.
THE NOW FOUNDATION
PAST AND FUTURE UNITED
AND GIVING BIRTH TO THE PRESENT
The foundation was able to offer the gift of a two-week vacation to terminally ill children and their parents. The kids got an experience of ranch life, of being a cowboy and listening to Indian stories around a campfire. The parents were counseled and given a reprieve from worry and care. And in the fresh juice, served each morning, was BIHA. She had named the supplement they derived from the plant, and she again grinned while thinking of the reactions to her suggestion. They had understood at once.
Believe In Hope Again.
So that's what they did. Believed. More novels followed. More movie options, enabling them to run the ranch and quietly operate a foundation that allowed them to distribute the herb in an altruistic way. There was still a bit of suspense and mystery about it, which Marc enjoyed with great flourish, as evidenced by the resurfacing of his frustrated acting abilities.
"Is that the foundation list for the next group?" Bryan asked, coming to join her in the opposite rocker. He placed a glass of iced tea on the little table between them.
She nodded and handed the paper to him. "Thirteen families. Scheduling with the staff is completed. They'll arrive on Tuesday to set up the cottages. Everything should be fine for the weekend arrival."
Her brother glanced at the paper and then asked, "Are you sure you're up to this right now?"
Mairie smiled, knowing he was concerned. "I'm fine. Besides, I get such pleasure from these two-week gatherings, just visiting with the children and parents."
He grinned at her. "You do look great, better than ever. You don't mind being in the background? You're the brains behind all of this, and to everyone else you're just Mary Delaney, housewife."
She thought of her quiet life and what a perfect cover it was. How peaceful to be an unknown… especially unknown to the Feds. "Happy home-maker," she corrected with a laugh. "I love staying at home, tending my plants, living a simple life."
"Yeah, right!" Marc opened the screen door and came onto the porch. "You're simple Mairie, Mairie? I don't think so. And you stay here, thank you, and make the rest of us come to conduct business in Wyoming, of all places," Marc added with a western twang, "where the deer and the friggin' antelope play."
Turning her head, Mairie laughed even louder. "Gimme a break, Marc. As if you don't love it. Look at the way you're dressed. That JR Ewing getup may still be in style in Arizona, but it doesn't cut it here. This is real cowboy country."
Marc adjusted his bolo tie and leaned against the railing, very Jimmy Stewart-ish. "Well, you decided to make the West our base of operations. I have to fit the part of chairman of the board. By the way, another pharmaceutical company contacted me, making a ridiculously high offer to—"
"We've had this discussion before," Mairie interrupted. "No drug companies are going to get their hands on this and spend years in FDA testing and politics with the AMA, only to charge a fortune when it's distributed."
"But they're already trying to develop their own."
"Those are chemicals," she said, looking out to the rolling hills. "They won't be useful. This has to be natural to be of any benefit. Kinda eliminates any corruption of it, so we'll continue to quietly offer a natural supplement to anyone who might be interested. Besides, it's the kids who really benefit… and those who can remember what it was like to be childlike, to believe in magic." She paused and grinned out to the horizon. "Those who still have hope."
All turned in the direction Mairie was looking when the sound of pounding hooves reverberated through the ground.
"Well, well, well…" Marc said with an admiring smirk. "If it isn't the Louis L'Amour of the new millennium."
Mairie inhaled deeply with anticipation and attempted to stand up. Both men immediately came forward to assist her.
"Oh, Mairie," Marc clucked, like a mother hen. "Don't you think forty-three is a little old to be—"
"Hush," she murmured, before he could continue. "I'm fine." She walked to the edge of the porch and held a post. "He needed to clear his head," she said, nodding toward the approaching figure. "He's about to write the ending scene of his latest book."
Jack raced to the house, over the last hill, up the dirt driveway, and over the rolling green lawn, and pulled the horse to a dramatic halt right in front of the porch.
"Momma, momma! You should see how fast Daddy rides!"
Bringing a hand up to her hip, Mairie grinned. "I've seen it. Don't get any ideas, young man. You only ride fast with your daddy. Promise me."
Marc walked down the steps and caught the five-year-old boy who jumped into his arms. "What are you feeding this child, Mairie? He's as strong as… as—"
"As his Uncle Bryan." Bryan leaped down the steps to capture his nephew from Marc. Carrying the child, he looked at Mairie and added, "What a joy, to watch him grow."
Mairie's heart expanded. And what joy she received watching her brother experience life, to see him in remission for the last five years. She decided that they could finally drop the remission part. Bryan was a miracle. They were all together again, and for the next few days they would laugh and love and plan.
Her mission of love was a success.
Smiling, she turned her attention to her husband as Jack tied the reins to a post and climbed up to her.
Stopping on the last step, he leaned down and kissed her stomach. "How's my baby?"
She stroked his head with tenderness. What a perfect partner he was. She could hardly believe how happy she was, how much she was loved, and how much she was capable of loving another.
"Your baby is fine. How's our son? He's not going to get sick after all that jostling, is he?"
Jack came up the remaining step and put his arms around Mairie, at least as much as he could. Now seven months pregnant, she found not only her heart had expanded. She didn't care. Carrying this child was another miracl
e in her life.
"Sick?" Jack asked with a laugh. "The Delaneys don't get sick from a hard ride, madam."
"Oh, I'm not touching that one with a ten-foot pole," Marc said, and sat down in a rocker. "There are children present."
Everyone laughed until they heard a childish whine.
"What does that mean? We don't get sick, Daddy."
Mairie held out her arm to her child.
"C'mere, Fenton."
Her precious son ran toward them and Jack scooped him up in his arms. Holding him, Jack wrapped his other arm around her and looked to his guests.
"Is she an amazing woman, or what?"
Marc called out, "She's amazing, all right. Even if, again, I'm preempted of being her birth coach. All that breathing I learned for Fenton's birth, and at the last minute you decide you're strong enough for the delivery."
"You know you would have fainted anyway, Marc," Jack said with a laugh, since Marc never missed an opportunity to tease Jack.
"Probably, right," Marc muttered.
Bryan said, "She's an angel."
Mairie connected her gaze with her brother and smiled her love.
"She's a gift," Jack whispered and kissed the tip of her nose. "Our incredible gift."
Mairie giggled. "She's pregnant and hungry. Who's cooking?"
As everyone walked into the house, Mairie picked up the glass of iced tea and looked out once more to Mother Earth in all her splendor. How spectacular she was. She lived, breathed, exhaled… giving life. Filled with emotion, Mairie gave her thanks… for being, for another day of love, of joy. What a miracle life is, she thought, as she turned to the door, held open by her remarkable husband.
You can never give up hope.
Anywhere you are…
We are each of us angels
with only one wing.
And we can fly only by
embracing each other.
Luciana de Crescenzo
Acknowledgments
To Robert Lee Harmon… for his friendship and for sharing his views on the Civil War. Even though he is one of the kindest human beings I have met, I kept my promise and used his name for the villain just so he could chuckle.
Phillip Hergett… a brilliant writer who broadened my view of the universe and expanded my perception of time. I will always value his friendship.
The Harleys… who were stuck with me on a boat for eight rainy days in Belize and showed me true partnership between a man and a woman. It was their example that made me believe such a union was not only possible, but natural.
The Las Vegas tribe of Paiute Indians… for the research material they supplied. I ask their indulgence for the way I manipulated time and circumstances. I also acknowledge the beautiful words of Woziwob—a message of hope that withstands time.
The descendants of the Gass Family… O.D., Virginia, and especially Fenton made for such wonderful characters.
Kristen Flannery… my daughter, my friend. Thanks for hanging in there through all the years of writing and for always listening to the last chapter and keeping the tradition alive. So glad we "wrote" it this way, this time around.
Lyssa Keusch… who believed in this story, and through her editorial skill helped to make it a better book.
Michael Rodriguez… for his faith, his friendship, his talents. My buddy, what a blessing Santa Fe was and will be again.
My Cristopher… Memory Maker, this book could not have been written without your input and your assistance. Mere words can not express my gratitude, and I look forward to a joyous lifelong "partnership." Thank you, my love.
And, last but certainly never least… the Clueless Club, who kept me laughing through all of it.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1999 by Constance O’Day-Flannery
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
978-1-4976-1210-5
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
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