The Paradox Initiative (31 page)
Read The Paradox Initiative Online
Authors: Alydia Rackham
“
Your dress and shoes are too pretty to ruin,” he murmured, lacing their fingers again. Kestrel blushed, and the two of them followed the path up the bank to the top of a little hill…
They crested it. Stopped.
Kestrel stilled.
Out there, on the edge of
a golden field that stretched to the end of the earth, stood a solitary tombstone.
Carved out of pale limestone in the shape of a Celtic cross, it waited, unmoving, a stark contrast to the waving wheat behind it.
Wolfe’s hand tightened hard on Kestrel’s. She answered the pressure.
For a long while, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Wolfe stepped forward. Kestrel stayed beside him.
Their feet crunched on dry grass, then on dirt that had been heaved up recently and smoothed. A mound of earth, much darker and full of clay, lay before the cross. And as they drew near, Kestrel could read the name carved on the crossbar.
Adelaide barnes wolfe
They stood in front of the grave for several minutes, saying nothing, Wolfe rubbing his thumb back and forth, back and forth on Kestrel’s hand.
“I made that. The cross,” he muttered, halfway pointing to it.
“It’s beautiful,” Kestrel whispered.
“Wish I could get some more stone,” he cleared his throat. “Bill should have one, too.”
“Bill?” Kestrel canted her head.
“
My dog. Was in the house, sleeping,” Wolfe smiled crookedly as his eyes shone. “Worthless mutt.”
Kestrel smiled, and it hurt. Wolfe gazed at the wheat.
“She died six-hundred forty-four years ago,” Wolfe whispered. “But to me it feels like it’s just been three.” He drew himself up and pulled in a breath. “I told myself for so long that I could go back, fix everything. But I know now I can’t. I never could have.”
Kestrel watched him, her heart throbbing.
“What I would have had to do—what I would have
become
…” He stared distantly at the cross. “And…I would have lost you.”
Kestrel swallowed.
He paused, his jaw tightening. Then, he stepped around in front of her, turning his back on the grave. She didn’t move.
He pressed
both her hands to his chest and held them there, gazing earnestly down at her.
“You know,” he murmured, suddenly unsteady. “That night at the pub, when you
stepped on my feet…” he paused, expression flickering. “I never stood a chance, after that.”
Kestrel couldn’t keep her eyes off him. And beneath her fingers, she could feel his great heart pounding wildly.
She slipped her left hand loose of his gentle grip, reached slowly up and touched his face. Ran her fingertips across his cheekbone, his eyebrow—the long scar on his forehead. Wolfe’s eyelids fluttered closed. She brought her other hand up to caress a strand of his hair away from his brow. His hands slid down to rest in the crooks of her elbows. Gently, she traced the scar on his right cheek, then the corners of his mouth, his soft lips. Then, she stroked her fingers through the hair on the sides of his head, and drew him down to her.
He
gave way. His eyes stayed shut. Kestrel leaned up toward him, standing on tiptoe…
Her nose brushed his. His breathing quickened.
Her lips found his again.
She kissed him. He breathed deeply, his desperation gone. She pressed deeper—and he
instantly answered.
His hands slid
up to cradle her neck, and he tasted her mouth deliberately, longingly. He lowered his arms and wrapped her up—lifting her off the ground, and Kestrel could do nothing but hold onto him and drown in the earthy scent of him.
He
slowly bent. Her feet touched the ground again, and his fingers wound through her hair.
One last aching kiss lingered
on their lips, and he finally drew back. But he kept hold of her head, and looked straight into her eyes.
And, for the first time in ages, his gaze sparkled.
He kissed her forehead—fervently pressed his mouth against her skin. Then, he pulled her close and held her to him, sighing. She encircled his waist and embraced him tightly, burying her face in his chest. And that knotted tension in his body melted, and vanished.
“You think your parents would mind if you brought me home for dinner?” he
finally asked, his deep voice rumbling through her head. She grinned into his shirt.
“Not if you take off your muddy shoes at the door.”
He chuckled, which sent pleasure tingling all through her body. He turned from her, just enough to wrap an arm around her waist and guide her back toward the creek.
“Why do you want to come home for dinner?” she asked as they stopped on the bank.
“I think your brothers may hate me,” he said, scooping her up easily. “And there’s something I need to ask your father.”
She considered him, mystified, but he only smiled secretively and carried her back across the water and set her down.
They strode out of the shade, back up the path, but this time Wolfe walked through the grass, so he could keep beside Kestrel. She smiled, and leaned her head against his arm.
“You know,
that night I stepped on your feet at the pub…” she remarked as she reached down and entwined their fingers. “…I never had a chance, either.”
And her heart swelled as she watched Jack tilt his face toward the sunshine, close his eyes, and smile.
The End
Alydia Rackham became fascinated with writing stories when she was twelve-years old, and hasn’t paused a moment since. She fell in love with
Beowulf, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Dickens and Tolkien in high school, and earned her bachelor’s degree in English from McPherson College. She’s written several novels and her head is spinning with several more that she can’t wait to share with the world.
Alydia Rackham
The Paradox Initiative: A Sci-Fi Novel of Adventure and Mystery
Available on Amazon at
http://amzn.to/1kzDERU
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Treachery for Treasure: The Beowulf Seeker Series Book 1
The Devil's Day: The Beowulf Seeker Series Book 2
Wrath of the Sea Fish: The Beowulf Seeker Series Book 3
A Weaving of Time: The Beowulf Seeker Series Book 4
The Riddle Walker: Sequel to The Beowulf Seeker Series
Bauldr’s Tears Book 1
Bauldr’s Tears Book 2
Bauldr’s Tears Book 3
Christmas Parcel
The Case of the Young Patrician Lady
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