Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1)

by Mary Crawford

  Even as I am mid-knock. Rogue answers the door. My daughter just fibbed to me! I talked to her not more than two hours ago and she made it sound like she was getting ready to go to bed because she had a long day planned at the tattoo shop. As I step into the hotel room, I discover that she’s not the only one, when Ivy comes out of the bathroom carrying a dress that looks very much like the wedding dress that I wore for my first wedding.

  “How in the world did you girls pull this off?” I demand as I pull them into a tight hug.

  As soon as Rogue can breathe again, she laughs lightly as she responds, “As it turns out, it’s a handy thing to have a guy who likes to fly to Paris on random Tuesdays fall in love with you. What’s even better is when he doesn’t mind flying in a bunch of your friends and family members too. Happy wedding day, Mama!”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said that boy was the nicest man you’ve ever met. Your heart has chosen well with that one.”

  I look around the room and notice some other people. I recognize Rogue’s coworker Jade. But, I’m not sure about the little redhead. It is nice to have another normal-sized person in this land of the giants though. When she sees me studying her trying to figure out who she is, she steps forward and extends her hand for me to shake. “Hello, my name is Jessica Walker, I’m Ivy’s roommate from college. I’m also the granddaughter of your minister today. You might want to hold on tight, Grandpa can tend to go off script a little if the spirit moves him,” she adds with a grin.

  For some reason, this strikes me as funny and I start to laugh so hard tears stream down my face.

  “Are you all right, Mama Rosa?” Ivy asks as she hangs my dress and veil in the corner of the room.

  “I’m fine,” I gasp, between giggles. “It’s just that there is no script for this crazy life of ours. Your grandpa sounds like he will fit right in to this bunch. If you think about it, everybody in the ceremony was supposedly dead at one point or another. So, if you want to call this ‘The Incredible Wedding’ I suppose you could, even without considering the fact that were having it the same day I got asked.”

  “There is no doubt that my grandpa, Walter, will fit into your little clan. He was struck by lightning while digging up potatoes from his yard in the middle of a rainstorm. The doctors declared him dead, but he woke up on the way to the morgue.”

  “That’s a story almost as strange as ours. You’re right, I think he’ll probably fit in just fine.”

  Jade steps forward and says, “Come on, I’m your one-woman makeover team. Let’s go get you beautified for your big day.”

  Since my own madre and padre passed away years ago, in a strange twist of fate, my own daughters are escorting me down the aisle to marry the man I never thought I’d see alive again.

  They leave me at the end of the aisle to be tended to by Jessica who is standing in as one of the bridesmaids. It is very easy to understand why she is one of Ivy’s best friends because she is a bright spot of laughter, fun and sharp wit. She is exactly the comic relief I need to steady my nerves on a day like today. I know it seems odd for me to be nervous about marrying the person that I’ve been married to for over a quarter of a century. Still, it all seems very new to me.

  The first time we got married, we said our vows in the small court yard by the courthouse where I was going to school. It seems like such a mundane, stupid reason now. We were struggling to make ends meet while I was a student. So, when they changed the way they calculated grants, it seemed that I might get more financial aid if we were married. We went shopping for a wedding dress at a thrift store and got food with our best friends at a grocery store deli and headed over to the courthouse. There was enough of a break in the weather that we were able to do a small little ceremony with the judge and the file clerk outside the little courtyard area. It was very sweet, it was almost as if we we’re having a real glamorous wedding.

  When I see the expression on Isaac’s face, I wonder if he’s having the same thoughts. Watching our daughters walk up the beautifully appointed aisle with perfect synchronization and grace in a historic building with massive paintings on the walls and ceilings like the fancy museum that Rogue and Ivy have been painting since Rogue came back from her trip is surreal. I am filled with pride. They are beautiful women inside and out. All three men are up at the front of the small church wearing identical expressions of complete awe and adoration.

  I’m so caught up in the moment of watching Tristan and Marcus admire my beautiful daughters that I’m taken by surprise when we reach the front of the church. Jessica whispers to me as she straightens out my train, “Look at the expression on your husband’s face, Mrs. R. He still thinks you’re as beautiful as the day you met. Someday, I want someone to look at me that way. Go marry the man who holds your heart.”

  “It is so true. Isaac Roguen has owned my heart since the day he found me hanging upside down on the side of the road. Nothing much has changed in all these years, he still rights my world yet makes my heart flip when he walks into the room,” I answer softly as the two ministers get situated at the front of the church.

  The one I presume to be Jessica’s grandfather steps forward and fiddles with his lapel mic. “Hello? Hello? Umm hello, I am Walter Walker. I’m the American minister. There are two pastors here today just to make sure we’re all legal-eagle since Mr. And Mrs. Roguen are getting married in fancy-schmancy ‘Pay-ri’. I can’t say I’ve ever been called on to remarry a couple who’s never actually been divorced, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Jessica rolls her eyes as she addresses her grandfather, “Grandpa, they might appreciate a little less commentary and a little more tradition.”

  Pastor Walker looks up at Jessica, as if startled by her presence, “Oh hi Buttercup, you look very pretty today. You may have a point.” He clears his throat and turns to the wedding party and says, “Dearly beloved, we are here today to remarry two people who should’ve never been separated. It is clear that they are still very much in love. I have officiated many weddings throughout my thirty-three years as a minister and I have a sense for these things. I think this marriage is meant for eternity. Do you all agree?”

  Everyone in the sanctuary nods solemnly except for Marcus who declares quite heartily, “Heck yes!”

  Everyone including the French officiant laughs at his outburst.

  “Since you all have done this before and you know all the technicalities, I’m gonna skip to the good stuff,” he turns to the twins and asks, “Technically, I guess I need to ask this, and it’s just a guess here— but, based on the huge grins on your faces— I’m going to assume that you ladies are the ones giving your parents away and you approve of this wedding?”

  In perfect unison, the twins respond, “Yes, we do.”

  “I figured as much, but I have to go by the book. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, shall we continue?”

  I reflexively nod as I grip Isaac’s hand. I had forgotten how emotional the simple ceremony can be.

  “Isaac please look at your beautiful bride as you commit to these vows.”

  Isaac takes both of my hands in his and smiles down at me. I have a moment of déjà vu as I remember the same expression on his face from our last wedding. He may be older, but he is still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

  “Isaac Randall Roguen, do you take—I apologize in advance if I get this wrong; it’s a very long name— Rosa Marie Cisneros Betancourt, to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only to her forevermore?”

  Isaac is a man who plays his cards very close to his vest. I rarely see him publicly display emotions. Yet, a tear escapes and starts to trickle down his cheek before Tristan silently hands him a handkerchief. He clears his throat and discreetly wipes his face before stoically saying, “I do.”

  The rare show of emotion is almost my complete undoing. Fortunately, Rogue notices my distress and slips me a folde
d Kleenex. I delicately wipe my nose and wait for Pastor Walker to continue.

  The pastor turns to me and says, “That’s a very handsome man you have there; would you please look at him while you commit to these vows?”

  “Rosa Marie Cisneros Betancourt, do you take Isaac Randall Roguen, to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only to him forevermore?”

  “Absolutely, I do.”

  “I would suspect that you all have rings to exchange,” The pastor states looking at Isaac expectantly.

  Panicked, I glance over at Ivy and Rogue. After a couple of seconds, Ivy gives me a thumbs up. Tristan fishes a box out of his pocket and hands it to Rogue who hands it to me.

  “I’m sure these two have a few words to say to each other. If not, I can make up a few appropriate ones.”

  “Geez Grandpa, this is their wedding day, not improv night at the Eagles Lodge!” Jessica mutters under her breath.

  Isaac quietly coughs and announces, “I have something I’d like to say.”

  “By all means son, the floor is yours.” Pastor Walker says as he hands Isaac the microphone.

  Isaac takes my left hand and places the ring on it, but doesn’t let me see it. However, he doesn’t need to. It may have been twenty-two years, but my heart has never forgotten the feel of that ring. I have no idea how he has managed to accomplish this miracle. I had to sell every bit of jewelry that I owned including this ring when Roque had to have her appendix taken out. If I hadn’t done it, we would have lost our house to foreclosure. The medical bills were just too high. It absolutely broke my heart. I cried for months afterwards— just as I am bawling openly today.

  Although he’s typically one for observing formalities—especially in church, Isaac gathers me into a gentle embrace and whispers, “This is not a day for sorrow, it is a day for new beginnings, my sweet Rosie.”

  “How in the world?—” I start to ask.

  “Our soon-to-be son-in-law is a very smart man,” Isaac explains.

  “He is and he loves our daughter very much,” I agree.

  I look over to Tristan and mouth, “Thank you” as I try to collect myself and discreetly blow my nose on the tissue that Rogue gave me earlier.

  Isaac takes my hand again as he says, “The first time I was married to you, I got to be by your side for four years, seven months, twelve days and nine hours. I made a tragic error and messed that up. I almost lost everything that was ever important to me. We used to have a ritual that every time you would take the ring off to do the dishes, mop the floor or help me build furniture, I would place the ring on your finger as if it were the very first time. I know you thought it was just a silly little game. Yet, to me it meant the world. It was my way of showing you that I fell in love with you each and every day. Rosie, I want you to know when you look at this ring, it’s not a sign of all the days we’ve missed, it’s a sign of all the days that I’ve fallen in love with you over and over. I never gave up on our love even when we were apart because my heart always belonged to you.”

  Isaac adjusts the ring on my finger and kisses it like he’s done a thousand times before. “Rosa Marie Cisneros Betancourt Roguen, please take this ring as a sign of my love and commitment. I will love you in good times and in bad and I will never again forsake you.”

  I nod mutely with tears streaming down my face. “Of course, I have never truly loved anyone else,” I manage to croak through my tears.

  Ivy hands me a bottle of water and some tissue. “It’s all right Mama, take a minute. We could all use a second. Your love story packs quite a punch.”

  When I can breathe without sobbing, I retrieve the ring from the box that Rogue handed me. By now, I think I’m emotionally prepared for what I see. Yet, it’s still difficult to see Isaac’s ring nestled in the velvet. I can see the inscription that reads, “My life, my heart”. With trembling hands I place the ring on Isaac’s strong masculine hand.

  “Even when I had to try to pick up the pieces of my life and move on when the world told me that you were dead, there was a piece of my heart that always felt your presence. I don’t think it was any coincidence that I always called you my heart in Spanish. For that’s what you’ve always been to me—as vital as my heartbeat. Without you in my life, I felt as if I had no identity or purpose. You were literally my counterbalance. The person in all the world that perfectly balances me and allows me to function to my full potential. When you were gone, I felt like a mere shell of myself. Now that you’re back, my true identity of the heart has returned. I hope you don’t mind, but I never plan for us to be separate again. It was just too painful.”

  “I don’t plan to go anywhere, Rosie. You’re stuck with me,” Isaac responds.

  “In that case, Isaac Randall Roguen, please take this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. It is a symbol that my love has no beginning or end and will be there always.”

  “I can’t tell you how good it feels to have this ring on my finger again Rosie. I never thought I’d see our family back together again,” Isaac says as he studies the ring.

  Pastor Walker clears his throat from pent-up emotion as he declares, “I think I know when to wrap things up.” He turns to the other officiant and asks, “How did I do Pastor Laurent? Did I hit all the necessary highlights?”

  The French pastor smiles kindly, nods vigorously and responds, “Oui, très bien.”

  “Well, I guess my job here is done, by the power vested in me as a minister in the state of Florida, New Jersey and Kentucky, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Isaac, you may now kiss Rosa.” Pastor Walker instructs as he starts to turn away. “Oh, and if that weren’t official enough the French government also says you’re married. Try not to get unmarried this time, okay?”

  Isaac chuckles as he gathers me in his arms and kisses me very thoroughly. After a minute or so I hear Marcus mumble, “Maybe we should give them some privacy…”

  “I think they might appreciate that. After all, they have quite a bit of time to make up for,” remarks Tristan as he escorts the wedding party out the door. As they’re leaving, I hear Rogue tell Tristan, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if our next trip to Paris ended a little something like this and I don’t think I mind random Tuesdays anymore—”

  The End (for now)

  You can continue to follow the adventures of Rogue and Ivy and all their friends in Sheltered Hearts (A Hidden Hearts Novel #2) due out March 28, 2016.

  I’d like to thank all my fans for their active participation in the development of this book. You, the fans, voted for the charity that would receive 15% of the profits, Habitat for Humanity. I am so proud of your kind spirit and generous hearts and I was more than happy to include Habitat for Humanity into Tristan’s storyline.

  This book was an absolute labor of love for me. It’s deep and complex, just like life. None of the relationships are simple and they are ever-changing.

  There is no simple, one-size-fits-all definition of family. Sometimes, your family is who you’re born to. Sometimes, your family is who you’re adopted by. Sometimes, your friends become your family. For some of us, it’s a lucky combination of all three.

  I was asked what I thought would be the central message of this book. As an author, I always hesitate to answer that question because I think reading is a very personal experience and what each reader takes from a book may be very different for everyone.

  Having said that, here’s what I hope to convey. Even though you may think you know someone’s story, you don’t really know their story until you’ve sat down and had a conversation with them (or several). That is true whether you’re trying to understand someone’s family history, employment history or their health issues.

  In my career as a Disability Advocate, people often ask me, “Which is the most challenging disability?” My answer is always—without a single doubt: an invisible disability. Conditions like Asperger’s syndrome, sensory integration dysfunction, obsess
ive-compulsive disorder, diabetes, fibromyalgia or lupus can radically impact the way you interact with the world, yet to the outside world you appear absolutely normal. This is a hard concept for people to understand. When I drive my big power chair around, people instinctively understand that I might need some help. But, if a person with sensory integration disorder is having difficulty in the checkout line of a busy grocery store, it’s far more difficult to explain. But just because it’s hard to explain doesn’t mean the struggle isn’t present.

  Awareness is the key. I’ve made it my mission to include characters of all types in my books whether you can see the differences or not. I want to make my characters more true to life. I hope you’ll support my endeavor and tell your friends and family about my books. Additionally, if this book spoke to you, please take the time to leave a review.

  As a writer, I spend a lot of time working on each project by myself. But, this book was a little different. I’ve had some great outside help from my friends who generously volunteered their time to make sure it was the best it could possibly be even when I sprung a surprise deadline on everyone. I’m going to name some people, if you’ve helped with this book and I’ve forgotten you, I deeply apologize and cite extreme fatigue as my excuse.

  First, I want to think Cindy McPhetridge for being so enthusiastic about my crazy idea when I first ran it past you several months ago. Thank you for our crazy plot building session at Block 15 in Corvallis. It is my firm belief that every restaurant should have tables that resemble chalkboards and provide multicolored chalk just for fun.

  There aren’t enough thanks on the planet for my proofreading/beta reading team of Christine DuVal, Ruth Hawes, Heather Truett, Annie Angelich and Laurie Reber.

  I also appreciate the tireless efforts of Michelle Elliott-Storer, Heather Lange-Wilson, Rachel Bostwick and Antonia Trujillo. You all work incredibly hard to get the word out about my books. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.