Song From the Sea (39 page)

Adam left the room, and they heard the front door close.

“You
idiot!
” Mildred shrieked at Harold. “This is your fault! If you hadn't gone and done something so unbelievably stupid, none of this would have happened. Scotland—my life is ruined!”

“Your life—what about
my
life?” Harold said in self-defense. “In case you've forgotten, it was you who told me to
do
something. Well, I did, didn't I, and you thought it a brilliant idea when I told you about it, so it's a little late to be blaming me for following your instructions …”

Adam, who could hear the shouting all the way outside, wearily shook his head.

He really couldn't wait to get home. He had to find out why Callie was so anxious to go to the cliffs. Far more important than that, he had to tell her he loved her.

Callie looked like an angel, Adam thought as he quietly slipped into her bedroom. She was sound asleep, her mouth curled up in a smile, her fair hair tousled, one hand tucked under her chin, her other arm flung out in front of her. As usual she had the draperies drawn back and the window half open. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through it and slanted across the bed, falling on Callie's outstretched hand and catching on the gold of her wedding ring so that it shimmered like a star.

She'd already made the room her own, her treasures carefully arranged on the bureau and dresser, and he knew how much those treasures meant to her even without the fullness of memory. On one chair she'd propped a sketch of a man, and Adam walked over to look at it. Magnus Melbourne, Adam was sure of it—he saw the similarity to Callie, not so much in the features, but in the expression of intelligence and gentle good humor.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for giving me Callie. Thank you for loving her so well while she was in your care. I promise you I will always look after her, and you will always be in our thoughts and prayers.”

He moved over to the bed and bent down, softly kissing Callie's hair. “I love you,” he murmured, trying out the words, feeling the power of them inside him. As he straightened, something on her bedside table caught his eye. It was a feather, a dove's feather if he wasn't mistaken, the light gray vanes delicately etched. An errant breeze ruffled over it, then picked it up. It drifted upward in a slow spiral and floated down again, landing in the palm of Callie's hand.

Adam smiled. Whatever the feather signified to Callie, it looked fitting where it was, and he left it there.

Adam still had one last thing to do before waking Callie for their walk on the cliffs.

Going back through the connecting door into his own bedroom he picked up a candlestick, then headed down the stairs and through the house, past the gallery and down the hallway on the other end until he came to the chapel door. The handle turned easily and he pushed the heavy door open. Tomorrow he would bring Callie here, but this moment was for him alone.

He was surprised to see candles burning on the altar, but he supposed he shouldn't have been. He might have neglected the chapel, but the staff had not.

Adam walked over to the two marble crypts that rested side by side, one large, one small. Fresh arrangements of flowers sat at the foot of each one, their sweet scent gently filling the air. Kneeling, he tenderly placed a hand on the front of each crypt and bowed his head.

“My dearest Caro, my sweet little Ian,” he whispered. “Forgive me for having lost my faith, forgive me for holding onto you long past the time when I should have let you go. I will always love you, always hold you close in my heart, but I know that the angels hold you in their embrace now and you are at peace.”

Peace. He'd never thought to find it again, never thought to feel joy and claim it as his own. He had been through the fires of hell and he had survived. He had experienced loss, and in losing, had gained. He had grieved, and through grieving had learned the healing power of love. He would never be the same, but in changing he had grown, and that growth had given him an inner strength that would carry him through the rest of his life. For the first time he understood that life was not a random series of accidents, but a divine design, and that design so intricate and unfathomable that all one could do was surrender to it. And believe.

He
did
believe. He believed in life and in life ever after. Perhaps that was the greatest gift he'd been given of all, and he had Callie to thank. Callie and God, for neither had given up on him, even when he'd given up on himself.

“Thank you, Lord,” he said. “I will not fail you.”

Adam stood. He bent down and kissed the top of each crypt. “Good-bye, my darlings. Rest in peace.”

Adam left the chapel, softly shutting the door behind him, and headed back upstairs to wake his sleeping and most beloved wife.

The sun was setting as they approached the bluff of the cliff, the sky streaked with blues and vermilions, punctuated by fat, white, lazy clouds that gently scudded along in the mild breeze. Callie had brought her basket and busily picked up plants along the way, many of them new to her, for the topography closer to the sea was very different from that even slightly inland and yielded a lovely variety of flowers and herbs.

Adam was surprisingly quiet. He had hardly said a word the entire way, seemingly lost in thought, but she didn't mind in the least. His silence gave her time to gather her own thoughts, and she was grateful for the opportunity. She had much on her mind.

He stopped as they reached a particularly fine vantage point that overlooked the sea and stepped behind her, holding her close against him, his hands resting just below her shoulders. “Look, Callie. It's a nice sight, isn't it?”

“It's a very nice sight,” she replied, leaning back against him. “The sea holds such amazing power, doesn't it? It gives and it takes, but it never compromises. It is simply and perfectly itself. It is we mortals who are buffeted about by it. That seems a good metaphor for life, does it not?”

“You don't mind looking at the sea, then?” His voice held a note of real question, and mixed in with that, concern. “It doesn't hold any bad memories, frighten you in any way?”

She shook her head. “I don't mind at all. The sea brought me to you, Adam. How can I fault it for that? As for memories …” She paused, looking for the right words, for they were so important.

“I remember a very brave man who reached down into a turbulent sea for me when I was half drowned and pulled me into his boat,” she said softly. “I remember a man who whispered words of encouragement to me, a man who reminded me to breathe when I'd nearly forgotten how, a man who used his fading strength to bring me safely back to shore.

I remember a man who was there for me when I was able to open my eyes again, and who accepted me for the woman I was without judging me, a man who gave me a home and a sense of security, even though I had nothing to give back.”

She turned and rested her hands on his chest, looking straight into his eyes. “That man was you, Adam. You gave me back my life, and you nurtured me and protected me until I was able to stand on my own. Even then you protected me. You kept me safe, even after you knew that I no longer needed your protection.” She bowed her head. “You asked if I feared the sea. I honor the sea. I always have and always will.”

“Callie,” he said, lifting her chin with his hand, his voice very gentle, his eyes the color of azure as he gazed into hers, his expression intent. “What are you telling me?”

“I remember, Adam,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “I remember.”

He didn't say anything for a long moment. At first he looked stunned, and then a smile slowly lit up his face, reaching all the way into his eyes. “Callie … my sweet, sweet Callie,” he whispered. “You really do remember, don't you?”

“I remember everything,” she said, her heart filled with gratitude and joy and boundless relief to feel whole again. “I think it must have happened when I banged my head again, because when I opened my eyes I felt as if everything had come back into place with a great rush. I remember the villa, and my father, and—and I remember the lush beauty of my island, and all the people I loved. I feel as if God has given me the most precious gift in restoring my memory. It's the strangest thing, but I have no regrets that for an entire month I had no past to connect to, for I don't know if I ever would have fully appreciated what a wonderful life I had until I knew what it was like to have nothing at all.”

“I am very happy for you,” he said, but his eyes were filled with question, and behind the question a sadder expression that Callie didn't understand.

“What is it?” she asked. “Tell me, Adam, please. You know that you can ask me anything.” She reached for his hand and held it tightly.

“Yes, I know that. And I know you will tell me the truth. My question is this: now that you do remember, do you wish for your old life back?”

Callie's breath caught in her throat. “Oh, Adam— Adam, no,” she said, pulling him tightly against her, her cheek resting against his shoulder. “That's not what I meant at all. I could never leave you, not ever.”

He pulled back and looked down at her. “Are you sure, Callie? Do you really mean that?”

“I mean that with all my heart. I—I know that you don't want to hear this, for you've made your position very clear …” She trailed off, not sure that she should say anything else.

“What is it that you think I don't want to hear?” he said, his voice very low.

Callie gazed up at him, silently praying that she wouldn't drive him away, but he expected truth from her and so she would tell it. “I love you, Adam. I can't help myself. I just do, and I have for a long time.”

He exhaled, a long, deep sigh of relief. “That's good,” he murmured, resting his forehead on hers. “That's very, very good.”

“It is?” she said in confusion.

“Oh, yes,” he said, lifting his head and smiling down at her tenderly.

“But you said that—”

“I know what I said. I said a lot of idiotic things, most of which I hope you'll put out of your head. Callie, when I told you that an essential part of me died when Ian and Caroline were killed, I was speaking the truth. What I didn't realize at the time was that a new and different part of me was coming alive. I believe that the beginnings were sown the day that I pulled you from the sea.” He released a deep sigh. “I don't know whether it was because I was so worried about you, wanted so much for you to live, but I found myself truly caring about something, about someone, for the first time in two very long years. And then when you started to recover and I began to know you, I slowly began to recover, too. It took some time before I realized what had happened, but one day I realized that I was enjoying life again, that the crushing pain and despair had receded. I have you to thank for that—I have you to thank for a great many things, but the greatest thing of all is for giving me back my life. You did that with your love.”

Callie was so overwhelmed she could barely speak. “I am so grateful,” she whispered.

“As am I. But there's more I need to say. I can't tell you when or how, but I fell in love with you, Callie. I fell in love with you, and I realized that it was a very different kind of love than I'd felt for Caroline, that I was a very different man and you were a very different woman, and what we had between us was unique and complete. I felt as if I'd finally come home.”

Callie stared at him in complete shock. “I didn't know,” she said, her voice choked, the tears she'd been holding back streaming unchecked down her cheeks.

“How could you have?” he said, drawing his finger down her nose. “God knows I haven't made myself very clear, but I wasn't very clear myself. Perhaps I didn't realize the complete truth until today, being the stubborn, thick-skulled dunderhead that I am, but today, when I thought … let's just say that I have no doubt in my mind about how very much I love you and cherish you. I'd be utterly and entirely lost without you.”

“Adam,” Callie said, “I'd be lost without you, too.” The joy in her heart threatened to overwhelm her. Adam had learned his lesson, and it had freed him—and her.

“I'm glad to hear it,” he murmured. “I've been an utter fool, Callie, and I'm sorry. I was so caught up in hanging on to the past that I neglected to realize that the past had stopped hanging on to me.”

Callie managed to laugh through her tears. “I'm so glad—I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that. But I've also learned something through this experience, Adam, and it's that the past lives in you, that it defines you and makes you who you are. The people whom you have treasured and who have treasured you are never really gone. They live on in you and continue to give you happiness, and you can only be grateful that they graced you with their presence for whatever time you had with them—the imprint they leave behind stays with you forever, and you can best honor their memory by living your life to the fullest, the way they would have wanted you to.”

Adam ran his hands up and down her arms. “Callie— how did I ever have such good luck as to find you? You make life so sane and so simple.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then opened them again. “I have a confession to make. I never thought I'd tell another soul this, but you have a right to know.” He blew out a long breath as if steeling himself. “The day that I found you in the sea—I hadn't gone out fishing. I'd gone out to drown myself. I honestly felt as if I couldn't go on.” He looked away, as if waiting for her to lambaste him.

Callie's eyes widened and she pressed her hands against her mouth, but instead of dismay, she felt only amazement. “Adam—oh, Adam, I'm so sorry that you were in such pain that you wanted to take your own life, but don't you see?”

“See what, exactly?” he said, looking back at her in confusion.

“See God's hand at work? Adam, if you hadn't gone out to—to kill yourself, then you couldn't possibly have rescued me, and we wouldn't be standing here now, either of us, loving each other so well.” A hiccup of laughter escaped her. “You may have
thought
you were going to kill yourself, but God had something else entirely in mind. He put you exactly where you needed to be so that both of us could start a new life, and start it together. Oh, that's
wonderful
!”