Rain Shadow(54)

Rain Shadow let her eyelids flutter closed. She swallowed and opened  them again. So close! How could she have come so close? It had been too  many years. They'd never find the families of the passengers now.

"But this one," Anton said, drawing a heavy parchment envelope from the  pile, "came from a woman whose daughter and son-in-law had a  dark-haired, violet-eyed three-and-a-half-year-old girl."

Rain Shadow had never fainted in her life, but she feared this might be  the first time. Her head grew so light, her vision grayed. Anton's face  blurred, the room faded from view. She dropped the papers, gripped  Anton's forearms and forced herself to focus on his features.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, excitement sharpened to an unbearable peak.

He secured her waist and smiled into her eyes. "I'm sure. She described  your parents. You must have your father's hair and eyes and your  mother's small size. Your grandmother said you were a beautiful but  headstrong child. Can there be any doubt?"                       
       
           



       

"Oh, Anton!" she cried, every nerve ending tingling. "Oh, my-"  Passionate tears filled her eyes. Releasing one arm, she grabbed the  envelope and blinked trying to see the handwriting. "What's her name?"

With his thumb, Anton wiped tears from her cheekbone. "Her name's Melisande Snow. She's French. Snow's her married name."

With trembling fingers, Rain Shadow slid the heavy sheet of paper from  the envelope and unfolded it. Impatiently, she wiped her hand across her  eyes and focused on the letter, her eyes devouring the words. "Amorette  and Thomas Westcott."

"Your parents," he said, emotion clogging his voice.

She pored over the remainder of the letter and took great care in  folding it and replacing it in the envelope. Her finger touched the  postmark. "She lives in London."

"And she wants to come to America to visit you just as soon as you say it's all right."

It was all too much! Taking a breath, she unfolded her legs from beneath  her, settled back and forced her limbs to relax. "I have a  grandmother," she said staring at the ceiling in awe.

"Yes. You do, Alexandria."

She shot a glance at him. "Alexandria Westcott." She tried out the name.  A long-forgotten memory flitted across her consciousness, an intangible  blur of her mother's face and voice. "Lexie Westcott," she whispered.  "They called me Lexie."

Anton leaned over her, his eyes a vivid blue. "Lexie Neubauer, you mean."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Oh, Anton, if I'm dreaming, I don't want to wake up."

He kissed her, running his thumb across her shoulder and under the towel  she still wore. "If I'm awake," he said against her mouth. "I don't  ever want to sleep."

A delicious shiver ran down her side. He slid his palm beneath the towel. "Thank you," she whispered into his good ear.

"Thank you," he replied.

He covered her mouth with his, pressing her into the soft mattress, and  she welcomed her husband's ardent caress, knowing she'd always crave  touching him the way she did now. She needed him exactly the way he was,  wanted him enough to bridge their cultures and loved him more than  enough to last for time and eternity.

"I love you," she sighed as he tossed the towel on the floor.

He smiled. "I want to hear you say that every day for as long as I live."

"You will."

The End





Heaven Can Wait


an excerpt from the prequel to Rain Shadow



That night Jakob came to bed in the darkness. "I haven't courted you  properly," he said in that deep, mellow voice for her ears alone.

"Nein?"

"No."

"How does one court 'properly'?"

"Well-" he paused, as if considering "-a couple does a lot of hand holding and moonin'-"

"What is moonin'?"

"Staring into each other's eyes and sighin'."

That brought a giggle.

"And then they move on to kissin' and huggin'-"

"That we've done."

"Are you going to let me finish a sentence?"

Lydia giggled again.

"Are you being coy?"

"I think not."

He laughed. "I think not, either-too. Which is it?" On top of the down  tick, he found her hand, and threaded their fingers together. "By the  time they get married, the couple knows each other. As well as they can  without actually... being married. They get a chance to share likes and  dreams."

"Jakob?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you not share dreams with me tonight?"

They lay side by side, hands clasped, talking into the darkness. "I guess I did. What about you? What've you dreamed about?"

Lydia took a relaxing breath. A Harmonist was not encouraged to dream.  Thoughts other than the educational or vocational were unnecessary. Her  father did the thinking and planning for the colony.

"Come on, didn't you ever want a handsome prince on his trusty steed to  carry you off?" he teased. "Or did you imagine finding the pot of gold  at the end of the rainbow?"

"That is ludicrous. A rainbow has no beginning or end. It is not physical, but a reflection."                       
       
           



       

Silence.

"Jakob?"

"You've got me there."

"Where?" His laughter was a deep baritone rumble that brought a smile to her lips. "What is so funny?"

"You." His hand tightened on hers, and the mattress dipped dangerously,  rolling her toward him. He wrapped her shoulder in his arm and pulled  her against his softly matted chest.

Lydia inhaled his clean male scent. Did her lack of common knowledge  actually amuse him? Living in Accord, she sensed she had missed out on  something other women inherently knew.

"A dream is something you've always, always wanted. Isn't there something?" His deep whisper rasped behind her ear.

She closed her eyes, and a shiver rippled up her spine. Of course there  was something she had always, always wanted-one of the reasons she had  chosen to marry him and leave her family. "Ja. There is something."

"What?"

"A baby."