18. In for a penny in for a pounding
I navigated swiftly away and out into deeper waters, feeling better with each passing wave. I toyed with the idea of setting up my speaker and playing music to drown the voices in my head.
Andrews’ kingdom was completely out of sight, and there was a ways to go before I reached the new shipyard. I settled in and tried to breathe and relax and just feel the waves carrying me on and not the afterimage of Graham turning to stone in front of me. I almost managed it until a lanky teenage boy with my beloved’s exact smile dropped from the mast in front of me.
“Hello, Auntie!” He beamed.
“Magnus!” I gasped. I looked up at the mast where he’d stowed away. People never look up. It’s why I hide all my good stuff in the ceilings. I groaned. This was trouble. I was going to have to turn around. “What do you think you’re doing?” I started lowering the sails to drop speed.
“I’m here to help you! I’m also making sure you come back.” He rushed to the edge of the ship and looked over the rail at the hull cutting through the waves. He turned back and grinned in success. “Since I’m here, you’ll have to bring me back.”
“Exactly. I’m turning around now, and you can swim once we get close enough.” I would make him walk the plank, I swear to god.
“Auntie, come on,” he whined. “We’re almost there. You’d end up sailing through the night. I left a note on Father’s desk. And Auntie Von said she’d tell Mother.”
I blanched. “What did you tell her?”
“That you needed help and I was going with you.” He sat next to me and grinned. “So they know and it’s all okay.”
“Oh, Magnus, no. This is a terrible idea.” I sighted the waves and began the turn back towards the estate.
“You were going to leave. I hate when you leave. I mean, the parties are really fun and Mother stops yelling so much, but I like it when you’re here.” He scowled and sat with his arms crossed.
“They must be out of their minds with worry.” I tacked into the wind and did my own scowling at the waves about the delay this would cause.
“So am I every time you leave.” He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the boards. “So is Father,” he grumbled. “Even when he yells. He doesn’t mean it. We like when you are home with us.”
“I know. I like it when I’m home with you too.” I sat next to him and put my arm around his broadening shoulders.
“But, Magnus, they need to know you are safe.”
“I left a note,” he grumbled.
My stamina eroded away beneath this guilt trip. That strange, complicated kingdom had entangled me more than I ever realized. Here was this child I had helped raise and feed and teach, and now I was supposed to leave him? It echoed my own past with frightening familiarity.
My father had left me when I was not much younger than Magnus. He and I sailed together. That was our thing. That bastard and I would be out on his boat every spare hour we got. He never left shore without me. Until one day he took that ship out to sea without me, never returned, and I was left waiting on an empty dock looking for sails that never reappeared. If I had known, I would have stowed away exactly as Magnus had done. I would have cheated a few more minutes out of that man as well.
We were over three-quarters of the way there. It would delay me an astounding amount to turn back now. Regretting every twitch of my muscles, I raised the sail back up, tacked around again, and sped us on our way to the shipyard.
He cheered and went to the bow and stood looking like a curly-haired king of the world. I had to admire the gumption of this kid. This little stunt of his did more in two hours than his father had ever accomplished: joined me on an adventure, coerced me into a decision I wouldn’t otherwise have made, made me commit to returning home. This kid was going places – wish I’d be around to see it.
I spent the rest of the trip giving Magnus a crash course in sailing. He gave me a crash course in generally having a good time and laughing at myself. We were both sure to be in a magnificent amount of trouble when we returned, but at this point it was in for a penny, in for a pound. We were both reckless enough to decide just to have a good time and enjoy the moment.
Davies had managed a semblance of a dock at the shipyard, and Magnus raced down it toward the unfamiliar beach as soon as the ship was secured. He whooped and cheered at his recent escape and successful stowaway plan. His joy brought Dom and Henry out, and the three boys were soon fast friends, running in and out among the waves.
The shipyard was taking shape. Temporary structures lined the compound, some for processing and some housing and some for business. The smithy’s forge belched smoke and heat I could feel from here. An enormous pile of felled trees lay stacked and awaiting shaping by the tree line. Laborers could be heard felling more of the cedars out in the forest. A warning shout preceded the crash and tumble of another tree down.
Mary came out of one of the temporary structures to greet me. She looked healthy despite the advancing pregnancy. Davies was at her side and offered her his arm to climb over the driftwood and brambles strewn on the beach. After some hearty greetings from Davies, I handed Mary the letter of instructions from Izzy about how to distribute the cargo. She looked it over and said she thought she understood.
“This woman, she is very kind, isn’t she?” Mary looked up from the rough paper. Technically she and Izzy had never had much of an introduction.
“She is. To those she deems worthy.” I often wondered where I stood on her scale of worth. Since this journey began, I felt part of the small group of people Izzy might cast off into the abyss at any moment.
“Difficult to tell sometimes who is worthy and who ought to be left to the lions,” Mary said as she reread the letter.
“I’ve never been much of a judge of it myself.”
“Me either. Probably why I’ve taken up with you, Captain.” My old friend smiled at me. Scarecrow, I was going to miss you most of all.
Mary went to work directing the unloading of my ship and was astounded at the quantity and variety of items my sister was donating for distribution. Let it go, I counseled myself with every crate, box, sack, and stack of goods ferried over the gangplank. Just let it go. It was all going to a better place. Still, each item was linked to a memory linked to a thousand different memories and plans. Let it go, Anne. Just let it go. What’s done is done and cannot be undone. And what was done once can also be done again. I’d just have to tighten my belt, lift up my bootstraps, and continue onward.
“Captain,” Mary called over to me after opening several crates of fine and exquisitely decorated glassware, “this is unusable here. Might I make a suggestion?”
“It’s yours to do whatever you think best.” Let it go. It was time to let it all go. The beautiful glass had come from Egypt. It had sailed with me on my ship for four years. I missed it already. I picked up a demitasse cup and caressed it lovingly before placing it back down.
“I’ll sell it then. Use the money, reinvest it in the tools we need and housing supplies.” She boxed the crates back up and went to speak to Davies about coordinating a sale. I patted the crates one more time before following her out of the temporary structures.
At dinner that evening, Magnus and Henry joined all of Mary’s children and Davies around the table. It was a raucous time, and I saw Davies absolutely bubbling over with glee at the antics of all the children and the boastful stories of the young men. Apparently Henry and Dom had taught Magnus some basic blacksmithing today, and the three of them had almost burnt down the place but might also have also stumbled upon the recipe for tin. Magnus’s irrepressible good nature matched Dom’s enthusiasm and Henry’s understated energy perfectly. The three of them made it simply impossible to depart the next day.
Also, I really didn’t want to leave.
So we stayed just one more night.
****
Mary and Davies and I continued to talk shop long into the night about production and children and wine. I watched the two of them talk in an easy back and forth. Davies was careful with her pregnant body and poured her drinks and saw that her plate was full. Mary laughed at his boisterous jokes and provided him insight where he’d overlooked details. Davies would be good for her, and Mary would be a miracle for him. This was good. I’d managed something good at last.
Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to see, but as the evening concluded, Davies reached for her hand and she gave it to him. I left them to each other. My bed felt unusually cold that night. It was time to leave. Tomorrow morning we would go.
****
I was on my ship (with Magnus all but trussed to the mast) on the morning tide, ready to meet my doom.
“I’ll watch the tides for you, Captain.” Mary hugged me and stepped aside for Davies.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he boomed and squeezed me in a huge embrace.
Rule number four: No goodbyes.
“Don’t lose my money,” I warned them both and raised the sails and waved for all I was worth as they disappeared from view.
One slight detour before we sailed back to reality. I went out into the open ocean and raised my spyglass. There. There was a telltale smudge on the horizon that was the Victory finally on approach. I hope Izzy had gotten her fill because, this time tomorrow, her husband would be remanded back to the King.
The Hundred Acre Wood was atypically still and quiet when we docked. The smokestacks and usual sounds and goings-on were noticeably absent. The place was on lockdown. I looked at Magnus and he looked back at me. We both knew we were in deep shit. I tied the ship off and lowered the gangplank. Magnus didn’t want to leave.
“We did the crime. Now we’ll do the time.” I held my hand out to him.
“Auntie, I think this was a mistake,” he confessed.
“No question about that. Listen to me. I ordered you to come. I refused to bring you back. This was all my idea. Do you understand?”
“Auntie—”
“No, Magnus. I did not give you a choice. You had to come.”
“They’ll kill you,” he whispered.
“Let them try. I’m hard to kill. It’s you I’m worried about.” I brought him close and kissed the top of his curly head like I did when he was a little kid. I walked to the gangplank and held out my hand. We’d do this together.
After hesitating and looking out to sea and freedom, wondering if he could make his escape, he finally took my hand. We walked past the main house to Helene’s cabin. No one was about anywhere. This was going to be bad. Her cabin sat at the end of the cul de sac, large and foreboding.
I shielded the boy behind me and knocked on the front door. I would deal with his mother. Helene hated me and that would make it only too easy for her to believe the lie I’d tell her about forcing Magnus to come with me.
Only it wasn’t Helene who answered the door.
Andrews stood backlit in the doorway, the master of this land, a huge and terrifying presence. His eyes, still stone-like, worse even for the two days of worry and hurt.
“This is not his fault. This is all on me,” I told my beloved and his shuttered heart. “I needed help on my ship and he was kind enough to offer and I accepted.”
“Lies, Nanette,” he growled. “Where did you go!”
“You know damn well I was at the shipyard. Mary and Davies can confirm. I told you myself before I left.”
The doors and windows of the nearby cabins opened to hear the show.
“I ordered Magnus to come with me.” I stood my ground.
“Auntie—” Magnus hissed in my ear. I shushed him.
“You are not the lady of this house. You have no authority here to order anyone anywhere.” Andrews jabbed his finger into my chest.
I had a mind to lay into him with a good right hook.
He read the danger and removed the finger but remained threateningly close. “You took my son from his land and damned the rest of us. You want to sail away on your accursed ship, you go right ahead. But you will not have my child aboard. Magnus!” Andrews turned his attention to the boy. “Is she telling the truth? Did she force you on that ship, or did you leave your mother to join this fool on her damn folly of an errand?”
“Let him be.” I continued to shield the child and take Andrews' wrath myself. “I gave you your answer. Did you hear it?”
“Someone will pay for this transgression. Will it be you or Magnus?”
“Me.”
“Fine.” He grabbed my arm and threw me to the middle of the flagstone clearing between the cabins.
Yvonne and Angelica watched from the door of their own houses. Yvonne must have been tickled pink with the proceedings. Andrews left me there, presumably to go get his weapon of choice.
And indeed he had.
Helene entered the clearing to face me. The woman was a good few inches taller than me, and she matched me or better for musculature. I braced myself. She never broke eye contact with me as she hauled back and struck me clean across the face one way then backhanded me the other. The force of the blows threw me to the ground, and my head slammed hard into the flagstones.
I lay there on my back gasping, sucking in dust and dirt. A grenade exploding inches from me would have been less devastating. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was concussed. The woman came and knelt on one knee as I struggled to rise and jabbed me several more times, hard, splitting my lip and sending me back to the stone. I rolled over onto my hands and knees, and blood trickled down from where her knuckles had split my cheek and lip. I swallowed back vomit.
“Leave my family alone,” she threatened, low and close to my throbbing face.
“Yes, ma’am,” I grunted.
Andrews walked up to determine that blood had been drawn and I was sufficiently punished. “That’s enough for now,” he ordered Helene to stop.
Andrews left me in the dirt and escorted the mother safely away from me. She grabbed Magnus by the shoulder and dragged him inside their cabin. Josephine and Amelia watched me from the doorjamb, eyes big and bodies frozen to the scene. Andrews followed them up to the door, sharing a final few words of consolation with Helene and remonstration to Magnus. Family, she’d said, leave her family alone.
Bermuda was over for me.
My chest constricted. I couldn’t get any air. I didn’t wait for permission. I went straight back to my ship and vomited over the side.
My vision blurred in and out with my heartbeat. The floors lurched and swayed under my feet. This wasn’t the first blow to my head this journey. I’d been at the point-blank range of the blast in the Sea Wind, and the guards had pummeled me silly when putting me in those shackles. I retched over the side again.
Magnus’s mother and her fists of fury had piled on to an already growing list of issues. I gingerly touched my cheek and winced. It was a decent-sized cut. If my hands were steadier, I’d sew it up. I could look forward to a gorgeous black eye on my right over that large laceration on my cheek. My lip was split deeply about half an inch above my canine and was already swelling.
There were clean linen strips, antiseptic, and fresh water in the kitchen that I used to mop myself up. I also found a bottle of wine and my flask of Fountain. I picked both up and brought them up on deck where the three of us had a standoff: I could dive into the oblivion the bottle offered; I could heal myself with the Fountain; or I could live with the pain I so richly deserved. No winners yet.
My thoughts were drawn back to Izzy’s wedding, the lovers entwined and absorbed with each other – not just lovers, husband and wife. Family. Magnus and his sisters and parents, framed in a doorway. Family. I dabbed at my cheek again and winced at the sting of the antiseptic. The bottles continued to stare me down.
I lost consciousness before I could make a choice.
****
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about 100 miles from our destination and beginning the landing process. Please stow your tray tables in their upright and locked position. The flight attendants will be coming through the aisles to collect any trash you might have. Thank you for flying Bermudian Airlines and we hope you enjoy your stay!” The cheery voice was almost enough to make me puke. I sat white-knuckled in my tiny chair while Izzy studied a guidebook and my mother slept. I was drenched with sweat and shaking.
“Calm down, Anne. Flight’s almost over.” Izzy patted my hand. I hated flying more than just about anything else. I glanced at the map on the tiny screen in front of me then squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t going to make it. My heart was sprinting in my chest. I hated this so much.
“How’s she doing?” the nice flight attendant in Bermuda shorts asked Izzy. The two of them had tried to drug me before takeoff but it didn’t take.
“Great! She’ll be fine.”
“Keep her in her seat, okay?” the flight attendant instructed and continued down the aisle with her tiny bag of tiny trash.
I reached for the barf bag and held it like a security blanket even though I had puked everything out in the airplane toilet halfway through the flight and was thoroughly empty.
“I knew I should have made you eat those brownies.” Izzy sighed as the plane slowed to descend towards the island.
Oh no, this was it. The engines had died. We were going to crash-land. Statistically speaking, most plane crashes happened just after takeoff or on landing. The nose of the plane dipped gently. My seat cushion floats. My seat cushion floats. Why weren’t the oxygen masks dropping? Oh god.
“Landing already?” My mother had woken up. “What a lovely flight.” She stretched and lifted the window cover. I stopped breathing entirely, and a dull buzzing filled my head. “Girls, just look at that!”
The island was sparkling under our stupid, flimsy plane. Many houses and neighborhoods and even cars were visible as we descended. The airport was right next to St. George's Bay. It looked hot. It looked so hot there. I was going to melt. I couldn’t even wear the island’s signature shorts. The scars on my legs were too fresh.
The heavy tread of male footsteps down the dock shocked me awake in a panic, sweating. The light was blinding. I grabbed my short sword and had the blade at Andrews’ throat before he could take one step aboard my ship. He looked about as rested as I felt. Andrews put his hands up as I walked him backwards down the gangplank, the point of my blade a hair from his artery. His face was unreadable stone.
“Stay off my ship.” The words were muddled through my fat lip. I didn’t care what he had come to say. I wasn’t dealing with ghosts any longer.
“I’ll go where I please.” He spoke to my sword. For a moment he looked wrecked, then hardened his eyes and looked at me. “This is my dock, Anne!” He bit the words out and threw them at me.
I scoffed. It was my dock. I’d fucking paid to build it. But fine, he was so worried about my damn ship using up the stupid fucking dock, he could eat his heart out on the cold coins.
“I need two days. I’ll pay.” I fished a purse out of my pocket and threw it at him. “That should cover a horse and wagon too.” I shuddered at the idea of driving a horse myself but desperate times... “St. George's and back. I’ll be gone two days. Then I’ll just be gone. For good this time.” I kept my voice, eyes, and blade steady.
Rule number four be damned. I wanted to hurt him right now. I wanted him hurt. I wanted to see him in pain and laugh and sneer at him for his weakness. This was just the way to do it.
“Listen close because I’m about to give you what you’ve always wanted, a goodbye,” I sneered and leveled my best one-eyed glare at him, “I’m leaving and this time I’m not coming back. That is a promise. Goodbye, Graham Andrews.” My face seized in pain, and I inhaled sharply through it. “Now get the hell off my dock.”
Andrews opened the purse and estimated the coins inside. “Fine. I’ll have the team and a driver – a proper driver, not you – readied in an hour. Pleasure doing business.” He mock-bowed and took my money and left. I did not drop my guard until he was well away.
That was it. A lifetime together and that was our goodbye. My sister got wedding bells and I got...this. I collapsed on the dock.
When I came to, I crawled to the flask of Fountain and took a swig. It might be too little too late, but I had to try. The Fountain’s secondary measures were all but imminent. I really wanted to avoid that.
My face hurt so bad. One eye was swollen shut. I touched gingerly at my lip and cheek. The aspirin was tucked behind some of Izzy’s spices in the galley, but the Fountain gurgled in my stomach, rejecting the pills. It was high tide and the boat rocked under me, lurching me into the walls.
I’d be gone at least a day and a night. I stuffed some food, a waterskin, more aspirin, and my pistols into a sack then stopped to rest a moment before dressing. The boat was unsteady, and it was making me nauseous. Get it together, Anne. I dressed in my best stomping boots and my Kevlar-lined trench, and belted my weapons around my waist. I wrapped my head with a long scarf in an attempt to distract from my bruised face and stuck my wide-brimmed hat on top of it all. Anyone who cared to look would be hard-pressed to discern any womanly shape or manner about me.
I made sure I had a few ready blades close at hand since my driver was sure to be a prison laborer Andrews hired. Helene would likely not loan any of her people to drive me. While not necessarily more dangerous than anyone else, prison laborers were treated poorly, and from my experience, desperation was the cause of most violence.
When I judged it to be about an hour, I left my ship and headed to the main house. The walk across the lawn felt far today. I was puffing and dizzy when I got to the house and saw the wagon and a team of four horses waiting for me. Four. I swallowed back bile and trudged on.
The driver was in place. He was white (I was right about the prison laborer then) and wearing a slouchy overcoat and brimmed hat. Looks like we’d be a matched pair; my mother would have called us a singing troupe. I chuckled at the image and tossed my bag up.
“St. George's. We need to make decent time,” I told him as I climbed in back and settled in for a long trip behind smelly animals.
God, my face really hurt. The team took off, and I winced as the wagon jolted me around. I wondered, not for the first time, if getting the whip would have been better or worse. I imagined Andrews and his whip standing over me. It was not an image I cared for. I shuddered and prayed I might always get my ass handed to me by such lovely creatures as Helene.
Andrews was pretty brave to come and try to talk with me this morning. There were few souls on this planet who had struck me, lived, and voluntarily stood in front of me again. Andrews was a good man. I’d miss him.
Izzy had cleared the money out of most of my hidey-holes on the ship. If I could make a quick stop in Greenland, I could replenish my stores from my lonely mountain. With the ship so light we’d make good time; it would really only add a few weeks. Pain stabbed through my temples when I tried to do the math and I gave up.
Honestly, it was for the best that Andrews and I were leaving on bad terms. I wasn’t coming back this time. I’d made him angry enough that he wouldn’t miss me and could put his real wife in my dining room chair.
I wondered if he’d marry her right away or if he’d mess around with a few of the eligible debutantes who’d line up for him. I could just imagine some simpering little wisp, the very picture of a lady, dancing her mincing steps at a Wallington party. I imagined her doting on Andrews and sitting in my chair taking little delicate bites and dabbing at her little delicate chin with ladylike precision. I could imagine Andrews slipping off her clothes and touching her little delicate breast. That little bitch. I’ll slice her head to toe!
The Fountain sizzled inside my gut, and I grew hopeful that maybe I’d be spared the secondary measures. Helene hit hard, but it was my head smacking into the ground that was causing all the trouble. The horses continued their never-ending clopping down the road. They smelled awful.
I brought out some bread and cheese for a meal but only ended up holding them in my hands until the cheese got melty. Between the concussion and the rocking of the wagon, every time I tried to bring the bread to my mouth I missed. I pitched them back in my bag.
I could remember Andrews slipping my clothes off, touching my breast. I smiled and put my hand to my chest, feeling when his hands were there. My headache eased slightly with the memory. I felt the breeze from our open window and remembered lying in that big bed, running my fingers up and down his skin. I sighed. He could hate me, should hate me, but I would cherish him. I toyed with the idea of giving him a real goodbye, the kind of goodbye that didn’t involve a lot of clothing. I moved my hand from my chest to my bruised face and winced at even that small touch. Even if he did want to see this face again, who would I be saying goodbye for? Me or him? No. I had said my goodbye to him. It was done.
My headache only grew worse as we bumped and swayed down the wagon-track roads of rural Bermuda. Enough of Andrews. I focused on my breath and what was left to accomplish. There was Izzy to track down and support as her lieutenant got shipped away. I needed to get Bessie, Catherine, and some kid out of their manor safely and unseen.
Speaking of unseen, I couldn’t be seen. Any Puritan within spitting distance would rat me out to Closer To You My God, and I hadn’t packed my dynamite. The wagon rocked and rolled, and my head felt ready to split open.
“Can we stop a moment?” I begged the driver and barely waited for him to slow down before I hopped off and tried to catch my breath. I stretched and tried to massage the headache away. “How far do we have left, do you think?” I asked the him.
“We’ll be there by sundown, Nanette.” I spun around to see my wildcat man smiling at me from his seat.
“Stay away from me.” I reached for my pistol, but he jumped down and batted it away with the coiled horse whip. My reflexes were slow today. Any other day I’d have shot that stupid hat off his head. Just ask Marco.
“Enough of that, Nanette. You promised me two days. I’m taking those two days.”
“It wasn’t an offer. It was a threat.” My vision blurred slightly, showing me two men: Andrews, throwing me to the ground to have me beaten; Graham, between my legs driving me wild. My head hurt so bad. “You are a glutton for punishment, you know that? You are supposed to be home, despising me.” I groaned and sat down, rubbing my temples. I gave up on the Fountain. It was going to be a rough night.
He crouched in front of me and took my head in his hands for a better look. “Easy, Nanette, easy,” he soothed. “It’s just a little bruising. I’ve seen worse. Hell, I’ve even seen worse on you.”
I didn’t have the strength for this. I groaned and twisted into the hedges. Andrews sighed and rubbed my back as I dry-heaved. This was a bad concussion. The ground spun under me, and I couldn’t tell what was up or down. Next thing I knew I was staring straight up at the sun. Andrews was over me with one hand under my head and looking at me with grave concern.
“Helene’s got one hell of a backhand, doesn’t she? I speak from experience. You’re burning up.” He smoothed my hair away to get a better look at me. His assessment did not improve.
Andrews got me up into the back of the wagon and sat me against him. He rubbed my shoulders and arms, and I relaxed into his touch.
“Magnus told us what happened. Helene gets very protective. She was scared to death when you took off with him. You are careless with people’s lives, you can’t deny it.”
“I’m not.” The sun was over bright. I couldn't keep my eyes open.
“Stay with me, Nanette, don’t close your eyes.” He unwound my head scarf and tried to mop me up a little. “He’s in a tough spot, that kid. I want to protect him. Open your eyes, Nanette. Holy mother, you’re bleeding.” Andrews bunched the scarf and tried to stem the blood coming from my ear. He was talking mostly to himself as I had started drifting away from the pain.
“You told me you want to marry me.” His words came out as a whisper, as if he were in church and not the back of a wagon.
“Of course I do. I love you,” I mumbled.
“But you can’t marry me?”
“There’s not enough time,” I tried to explain.
“Nan, I’d take any time with you at all.” His hand gently brushed my swollen cheek, I inhaled sharply. He hesitated, then kissed my swollen lip with more gentleness than I’d ever have believed possible from him. I prayed for more time as if I were the one in church. My prayers would not be answered whether in church or in this wagon.
“Jesus, Nanette, that’s a lot of blood.” He dabbed at my ear some more.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” I slurred.
“I’m not,” he lied. “Stay with me. Stay awake. You’ll be just fine. You’ve had worse. Now stay with me.” He shook my shoulders, and my head rang. I cried out, and he pulled me against him, wrapping me close. “Sorry. Oh lord, sorry.”
I knew I shouldn’t fall asleep with a concussion this bad, but I hadn’t slept well on the plane ride to Bermuda. If Izzy and I were going to hit the beaches as soon as we landed, I was going to need some rest. How long did the flight attendant say? We’d be there by sundown? Perhaps a short nap.
“I want you, Nanette. I’ve been wed to you since the start even if we never said any vows. You know that.” He shook with emotion.
“I know that.” I really did know that. We’d been committed to each other from our first days together.
“I’m your husband whether you want me or not.” He brought his lips to my forehead.
“I want you.” I held him as tight as I was able.
“You’re my wife.” His words were reverent and true.
“Yes, I’m your wife,” I agreed. He kissed me softly again. I brushed my fingertips against his lips. The pain suddenly eased. I relaxed. Whatever pressure had been building broke, and I sighed. I felt liquid trickle down my ear. I wondered where Izzy was.
Andrews bent his forehead to my own and kissed the unbruised skin. He held me until I knew no more.
