Central Park Rendezvous

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  He must leave first thing in the morning. And he had no idea what to do about Annie. Or Permelia. Or if he should do anything at all. Even if he resigned his commission, it would be months before he could return to Virginia. He raked both hands through his hair. Why didn’t Annie simply break off their engagement? She’d made her feelings quite clear. And though he’d attempted to speak with her all day, she’d refused to see him.

  His thoughts drifted to Permelia. She said she loved him. At the time he was too angry to let the words sink into his heart. But now, a thrill sped through him at the knowledge. Pushing back the stool, he made his way to his knapsack and took out the letters. He gently thumbed through them, remembering all the sweet words, the comforts, the fears, the laughs they contained. He had fallen in love with the woman in these letters. At least now he could make sense of the disparity between that woman and Annie. Permelia, sweet Permelia. Even the reason for her deception had been selfless and loving. It had taken him most of the day to break through his pride and fully understand that. He drew the letters to his chest.

  He did love her. More than anything. He longed to go to her, tell her he understood her reasons for deceiving him. But it wouldn’t be right to declare his love while he was still engaged to Annie. And now he had no time left to sort out the mess between them all.

  Oh, God, what am I to do? He uttered his first prayer in years, spurred on by Permelia’s unyielding faith—the way she spoke so lovingly, so reverently of her Father in heaven despite the tragedies that had struck her.

  A breeze from the window stirred the dust at his feet. A cloud moved. Moonlight flooded him. He fell to his knees. “Forgive me, God, for abandoning You when I needed You the most. For being angry at You.”

  “I have always been with you, son.”

  William scanned the room for the source of the words. But no one was there. No one but him and God. “I’ve been such a fool.” But he wouldn’t be a fool anymore. From now on, he would talk to God often, praise Him daily. “I need Your help, God. Please tell me what to do.”

  “Love never fails.”

  The words swirled around him, stirring his faith and guiding his thoughts.

  Finally he stood, straightening his shoulders. He knew exactly what to do. “Thank You, God.” Then setting the letters down, he slipped onto the stool once again.

  And began to write.

  A glow shifted over Permelia’s eyelids, growing brighter and brighter. A chorus of birds filled her ears. She popped her eyes open. Jerking upright, she glanced toward the window. The early blush of dawn had long since passed, giving rise to a bright midmorning sun. Rubbing her eyes, she leaped from the bed, slid into her slippers, tossed her robe about her, and dashed out the door. She’d stayed up far too late last night, pacing her chamber, crying and praying, until she’d finally given everything over to God and accepted His will—whatever that turned out to be. Even if it meant life without William. Afterward, a peace had settled on her, and she had fallen fast asleep.

  But she had wanted to at least say good-bye to William. To tell him how sorry she was one last time. Hurrying down the stairs, she flung open the front door and made her way to the slave quarters. Darting inside the open door, she scanned the room. It was empty. All William’s things were gone. Her heart as heavy as a brick, she dashed to the stables where she discovered what she had already guessed. His horse was nowhere to be seen.

  William was gone.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she dragged herself back into the main house and sat upon the sofa in the parlor. Numb. Dazed. Her mind reeled with sorrow. He hadn’t even said good-bye. But after what she’d done, what did she expect?

  Something winked at her from the table, drawing her gaze. The coin, sitting atop a folded piece of paper. She grabbed it, fingering the gold as a smile played on her lips. At least she still had the coin. Laying it aside, she picked up the letter. The words Annie and Permelia were written on the outside. Her chest tightened.

  Shuffling noises brought her gaze to the door. Annie entered, her eyes puffy and red and her hair askew. She gave Permelia a seething look then dropped into a chair. “I suppose you’re happy now.”

  Permelia gripped the letter, longing to open it, desperate to know what it said. “Why would I be happy?”

  “Now that Jackson is gone forever.”

  “I’m not happy, Annie. I didn’t want them to fight at all.” She touched Annie’s arm. “I’m truly sorry you are so upset.”

  Annie sighed and played with a ring on her finger.

  “You should know that William left,” Permelia said.

  Annie’s brow wrinkled. “Without saying good-bye?”

  “You wouldn’t even see him yesterday.”

  “I was upset.” She pouted. “Now what am I to do? You’ve gone and chased off both my good prospects!”

  Permelia would be angry if the accusation weren’t so absurd.

  “What is that?” Annie pointed at the letter.

  “It’s from William, addressed to both of us.”

  Scooting to the edge of her seat, Annie snatched it from Permelia, scanned it for a moment, then began to read out loud:

  Dearest Annie and Permelia,

  Forgive me for not saying good-bye, but under the circumstances, I thought it best to leave without causing further heartache. I plan to serve the remainder of my time in the Army and then resign my commission at the end of the year. I have but one final request of you both. Search your hearts and decide what each of you truly wants. Honor forbids me to choose between you, so I have left the outcome in the hands of God. Should one of you decide you love this disfigured warrior enough to marry me, then meet me on Bow Bridge in Central Park on January 1st of next year at noon. I will be waiting.

  William.

  Permelia’s hands trembled. She clasped them together in her lap as Annie gaped at her. “Do you think he is serious?”

  “It would seem so.” Permelia couldn’t help but cling to the hope that, should Annie decide not to meet him, William would be hers. Surely this proved that he loved her. Otherwise, why would he have included her in the ultimatum? He loved her! Her breath caught in her throat.

  “So, he would accept you as his wife?” Annie’s face scrunched.

  “Is it so hard to believe?”

  Standing, Annie sauntered about the room, her silk night rail streaming behind her.

  Permelia stood. “If you break the engagement, Annie, I’m sure William will not hold Jackson to his vow.”

  “Of course I know that.” Annie waved a hand in the air.

  “Why can’t you simply choose? Don’t you see the mess you’ve created?”

  Annie spun to face her. “How can I choose between great wealth and great attraction?”

  “You mean beauty. If William wasn’t scarred, you’d have no trouble deciding.”

  “Oh, fiddle. You just want William’s money for yourself.”

  Permelia shook her head, her heart plummeting at her sister’s accusation. How could she tell Annie that she loved William? How could her sister understand something so deep and abiding? Yet why, oh why, was Permelia’s future, her very life, in the hands of her selfish sister?

  Love never fails.

  The words settled on her heart, chasing away her fears. God’s love for Permelia never failed. And no matter what He had planned for her, it would be for her good and His glory. Even if it meant that Annie married William. No, Permelia’s future was not in her sister’s hands, but safely tucked within God’s.

  She faced her sister. “What are you going to do, Annie?”

  Flipping up the collar of his wool cloak, William blew into his hands as he ascended the bridge, retracing the footprints he’d left in the snow only moments ago. His nervous breath puffed around his face. He’d been waiting for this day for seven months. Could hardly believe it had arrived. And now that it had, he wondered at the sanity of the ultimatum he’d left Permelia and Annie. He crested the bridge, swiped of
f the snow on the railing, and watched it tumble into the icy river below.

  Tumble down like his dreams would if this day did not turn out as he hoped. He pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat and glanced at the time. Nearly noon. Soon the months of waiting would end, and he would know who would become his wife. Or if he would have a wife at all. He glanced in both directions. A group of children built a snowman in the field beyond the river, their playful laughter bubbling through the crisp air. Sunlight glinted off freshly fallen snow and sparkled off icicles hanging from bare tree limbs. A lady and gentleman approached from the left. William tipped his hat. At the sight of his face, the woman’s smile fell from her lips. She turned away.

  He turned toward the river again. Would the pain of people’s revulsion ever fade?

  The sound of bells, clack of carriages, and stomp of horses’ hooves drifted on muted conversations coming from New York City. A distant clock chimed the time. Each resounding clang tightened William’s nerves. Finally the twelfth one sounded. He shoved off from the railing and began his trek down the other side of the bridge.

  Then he saw her.

  A woman coming toward him on the shaded path. Billowing lavender skirts peeked out from her long wool mantle. Her hands disappeared inside a furry muff while a wide-brimmed bonnet hid the color of her hair.

  Oh, Lord, let it be brown.

  Let it be Permelia, sweet Permelia. Though he had resigned himself to God’s will, it had been Permelia who had filled his thoughts, his dreams, these long months. It had been Permelia he longed for. Loved with all his heart.

  A heart that now thrashed in his chest with each step she took.

  He tried to go to her, but his feet were frozen in place. His heavy breath puffed about his face, clouding his vision.

  She moved into the sunlight. And stopped. Straining, William made out the details of her face.

  Permelia stepped into the sunshine. The trembling that had begun when she’d first spotted William increased in fervor. Accompanied by a racing heart. She could hardly believe her eyes. There he was! On the bridge just like he’d said he would be. And as handsome as ever in his black velvet-trimmed cape and high silk hat. But, why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he coming to her?

  She stopped, her heart constricting. Perhaps he had hoped to see Annie instead. Perhaps he was overcome with disappointment. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should leave, but when she faced him again, recognition flashed across his eyes and a wide smile spread upon his lips. He hastened forward, arms wide.

  Grabbing her skirts, Permelia darted toward him and fell into his embrace. Thick arms circled her in a cocoon of strength and warmth. She drew a deep breath of his scent. William. At last. She could hardly believe it. Easing her away, he cupped her face in his hands and swept his gaze over her as if memorizing every detail. “I’m so happy it’s you, Permelia.” He wiped her tears with his thumb. “I hoped, I prayed it would be you.”

  Permelia’s laughter broke in between sobs. “You did?”

  “Of course. I love you, Permelia. I love you.” Leaning over, he pressed his lips to hers. At first gentle and soft, like the flutter of a butterfly, his warm breath caressed her cheek. Heat sped through her, swirling in her belly. Her legs quivered. Then he deepened the kiss. Like a man desperate for more of her. Permelia’s world spun. He tasted of spice and William, and she wished the moment would never end.

  He withdrew.

  “I love you, too, William,” she said. “I always have.”

  He tenderly brushed a curl from her cheek. “But tell me, what of Annie?”

  Permelia bit her lip. How would he take the news? Did he still care for her?

  His brows drew together. “She is ill?”

  “Not as far as we know. You see, my brother arrived home and—”

  “That is wonderful news.” He lifted one of her hands and kissed it.

  “Not for Annie, I’m afraid,” Permelia said. “He forbade her to marry Jackson. Said the man was a hooligan.”

  William snorted. “A good judge of character, this brother of yours.”

  “Indeed.” Permelia smiled.

  “What of Elijah, Martha, and Ruth?”

  “Samuel hired them, along with many other workers. Thanks be to God, the plantation is doing quite well.” Permelia couldn’t keep her eyes off William, afraid he would vanish like the mist rising off the frozen river. Her thoughts shifted to Annie, and she frowned. “However, I’m afraid Annie ran away with Jackson anyway.”

  William flinched. “Eloped?”

  Permelia nodded, happy when she saw no pain, no sorrow, in his eyes.

  “She always was a bit pernicious.” He chuckled.

  Permelia looked down. “I fear for her well-being. In truth, I miss her.”

  He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Then we shall pray for their happiness.”

  Reaching inside her muff, Permelia pulled out the coin and held it out to him. “I believe this is yours, sir?”

  He smiled then closed her hand over it. “I know it was intended for Annie, but it would honor me if you would keep it. As my pledge to love you forever.”

  Emotion burned in her throat. But before she could find her voice to respond, he lowered himself on one knee. Brown eyes, brimming with joy and expectation, stared up at her. “Will you marry me, Permelia?”

  She caressed his scarred cheek, hardly daring to believe his words. “Yes. Oh yes, indeed.”

  Mist covered his eyes as he rose and lifted her in his arms, spinning her around and around. Their laughter mingled in the air above them as Permelia gazed into the sky and thanked God for William, for his love, and for proving to her that, indeed…

  Love never fails.

  DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

  PART 4

  by Ronie Kendig

  Chapter 11

  The flutter of a butterfly, the fluid grace of a hummingbird, had nothing on the movements of Jamie Russo.

  Sean couldn’t help the thoughts as he stood tucked into the corner at the rear of the auditorium as Jamie proved her mettle. His heart soared, watching her chase her dreams. He’d thought she’d given up when he got the medallion in the mail. It’d taken him a week to muster the courage and determination to talk to her, to not soak in pity. But when he went to the studio to make amends, her best friend sent him here. Did this mean she’d found a way to pay her tuition? He’d give anything to see her get this.

  She’d once said that he was a hypocrite for not even having a dream, but fixing motorcycles had aroused in him a deep sense of satisfaction. Warmth spread through him when he realized they were both hunting down their dreams. If only… if only she hadn’t shoved him away.

  William Wolfe had experienced rejection. For him, war and burn injuries tore from his hands what he thought he wanted—the love of a woman. The wrong woman. Sean could relate. His deployments, his injury sent his fiancée into the arms of another. At the time, Sean had let that wound fester, infect his soul. He’d heard it said that God never wastes a hurt. True enough, Sean stood watching something he wanted even more than marrying a shallow socialite.

  A woman’s voice rang through the auditorium, dismissing them but not before informing them that those accepted would receive an e-mail notice within a week. As soon as the white-haired matriarch left, the dancers rushed out the back with an electric hum.

  Sean hurried after them, anxious to catch a glimpse of Jamie’s face. She’d make it. He had no doubt. She was a fighter and an amazing dancer. His phone belted out “American Hero” as he stepped onto the main floor, and he answered it. “Sean Wolfe.”

  “Mr. Wolfe. I hear you got the Harley working. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

  Sean sighed as he stared down the narrow corridor where the dancers huddled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Riordan. The bike’s not for sale.”

  “I’ll increase my offer.”

  Sean chuckled. “Sorry. I’m not willing to give it up.”

  “Thirty-fi
ve thousand is my last offer.”

  Almost choking, Sean fisted a hand over his mouth. “That’s obscene. It’s not even worth that.”

  “It is to me. And listen—this isn’t the only bike I’d like you to fix. Partner with me. I’ll track down the good ones, you fix them, and we’ll split the profit.”

  He had to be kidding. The deal was ludicrously slanted in Sean’s favor. Getting to restore bikes and make money? “I’d be willing to work together, but this Harley’s not for sale.”

  Hoots and hollers mingled with groans and sobs, cutting off the conversation. Sean said good-bye and looked for Jamie amid the group. His breath backed into his throat.

  Jamie turned sobbing, hands pressed to her face.

  No. It wasn’t possible—she had to make it.

  A tall guy—no wait, that was her dance studio instructor. The same one who’d told Sean to get lost weeks back—pulled her into his arms.

  Everything in Sean closed up. That embrace looked… intimate.

  The guy rubbed her back. A girl hugged Jamie, smiled, then strode toward Sean.

  Sean fisted a hand as he edged into the girl’s path. “So… she didn’t make it? What’s wrong?”

  “Officially, nobody’s made it—yet. Those who are accepted get e-mailed, but Madame Faultier told Martin she was handpicking Jamie.”

  Just then, Jamie stepped out of Martin’s hold. Her gaze collided with Sean’s. She drew herself straight and came toward him, the guy on her heels.

  “Why are you here?” Jamie asked, her voice cracking.

  “To see you live your dream.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and it took everything in Sean not to wipe it away. “Well”—she sniffled—“I did. And now it’s dead.”

  “But—”

  “I can’t afford it. I told you.”

  “Then why are you here, auditioning?”

  Martin eased in. “Hey, now—”

  “Stay out of this.” Sean hated the growl in his voice, but he wasn’t going to back down either. He hesitated, taking in her wet eyes, trembling chin, and knotted brow. She’d made it. And she was upset. Which meant she didn’t have the funds, though he’d hoped a way would present itself for her.