Somewhere To Spend Christmas

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Somewhere To Spend Christmas Page 12

by Clay, Verna

With her heart in her throat, Sunny followed Dr. Hall through a couple of hallways until they reached Noah's room. "Go on in, Sunny, but don't stay more than fifteen minutes."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  The middle-aged woman with kind features smiled, patted Sunny's shoulder, and then continued down the hallway. Sunny took a couple of deep breaths before entering Noah's room. He was hooked to a monitor and had an IV dripping fluid into him. His eyes were closed and he was covered with several blankets. He looked terrible. Tentatively, she said, "Noah?"

  He opened unfocused eyes and smiled. His voice was raspy when he said, "Sunny. Come sit by me." He closed his eyes again.

  Sunny pulled a chair to his bedside and wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep, but he opened his eyes and this time focused on her. He pulled his free hand from under his covers and she knew he wanted her to hold it. She entwined her fingers with his cold ones and then covered their hands with her other one. They stared at each other for long moments and then she said, "I saw the Northern Lights and made a wish. I wished for your safe return."

  "I saw them, too, and made a wish."

  Sunny's eyes widened. "Then I guess we'll never know who saw them first because both our wishes came true and you're safe."

  "I didn't wish for my rescue."

  "Wh-why not? What did you wish for?"

  "I wished for your life to be filled with happiness."

  Sunny stared at Noah and then burst into tears. She laid her head on the pillow beside his and, between gulps, said, "Then Mama Pink was wrong. It isn't the first wish that comes true. It's the first two wishes." She lifted her head and touched her lips gently to Noah's. "I love you, Noah, and I've been a fool. Will you forgive–"

  Noah interrupted her apology by weakly cupping her cheek and whispering, "Always." Then he asked, "What time is it?"

  Sunny glanced at her wristwatch and smiled, "It's Christmas Day."

  33: Gift

  After her late night at the hospital, Vicky didn't awaken until two in the afternoon of Christmas Day. Lying in bed, she thought about everything that had happened in the past few months and squeezed her eyes tight. It was all so incredible. Her dead brother had sent her a message from beyond the grave. Her longtime friend Baxter and new friend Faith were engaged and marrying on New Year's Day. Her war against Michael Wainwright had been lost. The ghost of Belinda Hope had contacted her and led her to the discovery of a decades old diary that solved the mystery of two missing persons. And finally, Noah had been lost at sea and miraculously found by Michael Wainwright. Her mind conjured up his handsome form and she sighed.

  Before leaving the hospital the previous night, Leo had received a call from Michael that shed light on the capsized boat and rescue. He'd related that while heading back to shore with the men, Mathias and Noah had told an incredible tale. They had been happily fishing about five miles offshore when the sky suddenly darkened with clouds. Being a careful man, Mathias decided to return to shore, but as they were lifting anchor, a bolt of lightening struck the boat and shattered the hull. Noah, who was closest to the cabin, tried to send an S.O.S., but the electrical jolt had damaged the equipment. Meanwhile, Mathias had readied the lifeboat as the trawler took on water. However, within minutes of escaping into the lifeboat, they realized that it had also been damaged and the flares they had hoped to use were nowhere to be found. Mathias had told Michael that it was as if the universe had conspired against them. Even their cell phones had ceased working. After that, the lifeboat completely deflated and they clung to it, paddling against currents that wanted to pull them out to sea. And on the second night, when the Northern Lights appeared, they'd known they were close to losing their battle for survival. But then, out of nowhere, a vessel with a spotlight had appeared and they had started shouting.

  Vicky paused in her reflections to rethink her biases against Michael. In his phone call with Leo, he had also given his side of what had happened. When the search was called off for the night, he'd decided to continue patrolling the waters with a searchlight, but when the Northern Lights appeared and suddenly disappeared, it had changed the direction of his gaze, and that's when he'd seen a dark spot in the water and heard cries for help.

  Sitting on the side of her bed, Vicky lowered her head into her hands. She had never seen Michael abuse anyone, and he had been kind to her and the protesters while they were picketing outside his Portland Office. He had even changed the blueprints for the resort when she'd rudely told him it would obstruct Gabby's view of the ocean from the B & B. He had also hired an investigator to find Belinda, which resulted in also finding Rose.

  But, most of all, she remembered how overwhelmed he'd seemed during Thanksgiving; as if family time wasn't something he was accustomed to.

  Michael is lonely, she suddenly realized.

  Her doorbell sounded and thinking it could be news about Noah's condition, she quickly pulled on her robe and rushed downstairs. Breathless, she opened the door to a young man who was just turning away. He said, "Oh, I didn't think anyone was home. I'm a special courier with instructions to deliver this envelope today. I was going to come back later. Are you Victoria Patterson?"

  "Yes."

  He held out a digital tablet for her to sign and then an envelope. Vicky closed the door behind him and stared at the large envelope with no return address. She returned to her bedroom and sat on the side of her bed. For some reason she had a premonition that whatever was in the envelope would forever change her life. It was a scary feeling.

  Finally, she tore it open, removed several documents, read the handwritten note on top, and gasped. Her premonition had been correct.

  34: Surprise

  Three days after Christmas, with only a skeleton crew working because of the holiday season, Michael was studying a proposal from a coastal town in Peru that wanted him to build a resort there, and glanced up when his Secretary entered his office. It was unusual for her to enter without knocking, so he knew something was up. He waited for her to speak.

  "You're not going to believe this, Michael, but you're being picketed again."

  "What! By whom?"

  "Not sure. Do you want me to check it out?"

  "Yes. Please."

  "Should I buy Starbucks for the picketers?"

  "Hell, no."

  "Okay. I'll get back to you in a few minutes."

  "Sure." Michael returned his attention to the proposal on his desk. He didn't have time for nonsense. A few minutes later his cell phone rang with Leticia's I.D. Gruffly, he said, "Okay. Who hates me now?"

  "Sir, you've got to come down and see this to believe it."

  "I'm too busy."

  "Believe me, Michael, this is something you need to see."

  Rubbing his forehead, he removed his gaze from the pages he'd been reading and impatiently got to his feet. He was going to make short work of whoever was picketing during the holidays by calling a high ranking police official he knew. Surely, something could be done to threaten the protestors away.

  Rather than take the elevator to the bottom floor, he charged down six flights and exited the building. He'd only walked a couple of steps when he recognized the leader of the group—Vicky. His heart leapt, but then his mind kicked in. What the hell can she be protesting now? I killed the resort and gave her my beach.

  Then he read the sign she was carrying and the signs carried by three other people he had spent Thanksgiving with: Gabby Hope, Baxter Hope and Faith Bennison. On one side was his name, and on the other, what they wanted to convey.

  Michael David Wainwright, III

  Honest

  Michael David Wainwright, III

  Reliable

  Michael David Wainwright, III

  Trustworthy

  Michael David Wainwright, III

  Man of the Year

  Michael gaped at the group before returning his gaze to Vicky. She saw him standing in the shadows and lifted her sign higher, shouting, "Who is our man of the year?"

  "Michael David Wai
nwright," yelled the other protestors.

  Michael leaned against the side of the building and listened to several chants. When Lettie walked over to him, he grinned. "I've changed my mind about Starbucks. Call upstairs and ask everyone what they want, and then ask our picketers. Hell, ask the bystanders, too. This is one for the books."

  "Yes, sir!" Leticia grinned and retrieved her cell phone.

  Michael again sought Vicky out, half smiling. She separated from the group and walked over to him, but before he could say anything, she wrapped her free arm around his neck and planted her lips on his. Shock kept him from responding at first, but then he pulled the sign from her hand, dropped it to the ground, and lifted her other arm around his neck. Next, he pulled her body against his and kissed her so deeply he never wanted to come up for air. Finally, he drew slightly back and she whispered, "You probably think this is because of your Christmas present."

  He leaned farther back. "It isn't?"

  "Yes and no."

  "You're going to have to explain that one."

  "Yes, because your gift was unexpected and unprecedented. No, because kissing you is something I've longed to do since you first walked into the museum."

  Again, he was utterly surprised. "Really?" Then he grinned. "You never cease to amaze me, Victoria Patterson. And since we're admitting our deepest secrets, I've wanted to kiss you since then, too."

  Now it was her turn to be amazed. "Really?"

  He bent to her ear. "Really. And just in case you haven't realized it, I'm crazy about you, I'm crazy about Somewhere, and…" He trailed his lips along her jaw before hovering above her mouth, "I want a future with you in Somewhere."

  35: Wedding

  New Year's Day dawned crisp and promising, with a blue sky interspersed by puffy clouds. Faith left her bed to prepare coffee, and while it perked, stand before her living room slider. She never grew tired of her ocean view.

  When she thought back over the summer months, she couldn't believe the changes in her life. Before then, she had been desperate to the point of fearing she would die of a broken heart, which forced her into the drastic change of moving to Oregon. In Somewhere she had met Baxter, and their relationship had been rocky as she tried to understand her encounters with a boy who had been dead for more than two decades. Baxter had believed someone was playing a cruel joke, but then he'd had his own encounter with his childhood friend.

  Faith returned to the kitchen to pour her coffee. Leaning against the counter she continued her musings. Through supernatural occurrences the sadness in her heart had healed and she knew without a doubt that her dead husband and child, along with Vicky's brother, were happy in another realm, and someday she would join them there. But for now, she and Baxter had a life to live and perhaps children in their future.

  Today was her wedding day.

  Shortly after two in the afternoon, Gabby watched Faith descend the main staircase in the home she had inherited from her husband, and held back tears. When she glanced at her son waiting at the bottom step, he looked happier than she had ever seen him. Early on, when Faith had arrived at Hope Bed & Breakfast, Gabby had known they were a match made in heaven, but little did she realize how literal that was. Baxter and Faith had experienced supernatural happenings that ushered a dead boy into the light.

  Baxter reached for Faith's elbow and together they turned to face the small gathering of family and friends seated in folding chairs. Gabby, with Noah on one side of her and Sunny on the other, and Leo beside Noah, surreptitiously glanced at Leo's profile. He'd always taken her breath away, but now that she knew him in the fullest sense of the word, she loved him desperately. He was an alpha male who had made her feel young, loved, and desired. But…she had blown her chance with him.

  Pastor Hector Brand began the ceremony. "Welcome everyone to this joyous occasion that is, so appropriately, happening on the first day of the year. Let us begin the ceremony joining Baxter and Faith with prayers of thanksgiving and accolades of joy."

  36: Storm

  On the day after New Year's a storm blew into the cove and Gabby stood at the window in her bedroom watching waves rage. Gray sky and gray sea merged into one as she waited for the inevitable deluge.

  For a long time she revisited her son's wedding the day before and the wonderful reception. However, she had two sorrows that, when considered logically, were in opposition to each other. The first being that Baxter's father hadn't been alive for the wedding and the second, that Leo had only spoken a handful of words to her, being polite. Whether that was because of his warning that she would have to pursue him, or because he had given up on her, she wasn't sure.

  A burst of lightening lit the sky, followed by several flashes in quick succession, and then loud booms of thunder. When the deluge started, Gabby experienced what she had once confided to Faith—the presence of her late husband.

  Into the empty room she whispered, "I miss you so much, Marcus. We should have had more time together. You died too young."

  Within touching distance, but unseen to Gabby, Marcus watched the woman that had been his wife during his life on earth, and smiled. "I know you miss me, my darling, but it's time for you to forgive yourself for loving Leo, and live the remainder of your days with him. It's time for you to let go of me and run to him."

  He glanced around the room that he and Gabby had remodeled and remembered those happy days, and then he returned his attention to her. "Honey, somehow I've got to make you see that you and Leo are meant to be together. I've got to reach you. I don't know how, but I'll find a way. If Owen and Belinda could make contact with the land of the living, I can too. Soon, love, you'll know that it's okay to love Leo as much as you loved me."

  Epilogue

  Rose Ayers sat on the bed of her great-grandmother Ayers and told herself she wouldn't cry. Over the past month, since her Grammy's death, she had cried long and often, but now that spring was around the corner, it was time to board up the townhouse in New York where she had lived with her Grammy for the past seven years. It was time to travel to the town of her ancestors—a small community on Oregon's coastline named Somewhere.

  She reached to again open the box that her great-grandmother's attorney had given her at the reading of the will. As expected, the bulk of her Grammy's estate had gone to her great-granddaughter and her grandson, Rose's father, with sizeable gifts given to charities for children and animal shelters, but the contents of this box were amazing. Rose had always believed her great-grandmother's wealth had been inherited from her husband, but now she knew that the assumption had been wrong. Her great-grandfather's wealth had been small in comparison to the true donor, and Rose knew she had to reveal the contents of this box to the women who had solved the mysterious disappearances of Belinda Hope and her daughter, Rose.

  Young Rose Ayers had just received the final puzzle piece in a mystery begun nearly a hundred years earlier.

  Author's Note

  This story evolved gradually as the characters began unraveling the mystery of Belinda and Rose Hope. I was quite shocked when the truth was finally exposed. Wow! And now we have a box containing mystery items. I can't wait to find out what that is all about.

  As for Gabby Hope, I'm concerned about her. She is a principled woman, but is she carrying it too far. I certainly hope that Marcus, her dead husband, is able to find a way to bring her and Leo together. The next story in the series, SOMEWHERE for a Hero to Hide, will address Gabby's dilemma, and perhaps resolve it.

  Also, a new character, our hero, is about to have his orderly world turned upside down by one of the waitresses at Mama Pink's Diner.

  And what about Rose Ayers? After caring for her great-grandmother for so many years, perhaps it's time for her to find romance.

  Of course, before any resolution to the above, there has to be conflict, so let's see how much trouble I can stir up for these characters.

  Finally, as an excerpt, I have included a sneak peek from another fantasy romance series, Shapeling Trilo
gy. The first book, Roth: Protector, introduces a shifter who receives an assignment to protect an heiress (also a brilliant scientist), that tests the limits of his patience and lands them both in Egypt, the dwelling place of mystery.

  Roth: Protector (excerpt)

  Shapeling Trilogy #1

  Prologue:

  Roth captured the updraft with his wings, their seven foot span easily maneuvering the razor sharp crags of Ember Canyon. He changed direction and streaked toward the river, iridescent under a full moon. Diving low enough to feel the spray from rapids, he reveled in his mastery of shapeshifting.

  Within minutes he would learn what the Thirteen co-Princes considered a worthy, decisive mission. For over two thousand cycles of the sun he had been a Shapeling Protector, but the successful completion of his next assignment would usher him into the rank of Shapeling Master, the second highest honor among shapelings; and again, another round of undetermined sun cycles, with increasingly complex missions and the expectation of one day joining the co-Princes, leaders of all shapelings, would begin. He had no doubt about his abilities. He would not fail.

  Roth soared high again, intent on reaching the Cave of Thirteen before sunrise. He arrived in record time. Gently landing and pulling his wings closed, he lowered his head and prayed to the Source, repeating the Prayer of Secrecy he had been taught as a child by his guide. Before the last word in the prayer had been uttered, he no longer had wings or talons, but stood tall on two feet, his raven hair long and whipped by the wind. Pale blue eyes that observed everything stared upward in a gesture of respect for the Source. Wearing only white linen breeches he flexed and stretched his lean muscular form, feeling the rush that always accompanied a shift.

 

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