Predestined Hearts

by Kelly Elliott

  Feeling Gael’s chest rise, I focused on the black satin sheets. I knew what I’d see in his dark eyes—rejection.

  “Absolutely, sweetheart. Take all the time you need.” I knew there was a hint of hurt in his voice, though he tried to hide it. Gael had put himself out there and I’d shot him down from fear.

  Discarding my mascara, I got up and ran downstairs. This was my life. Harris seemed to have moved on and Gael was safe. Making it to the bottom of the stairs, I rounded the corner. Gael and I nearly collided.

  Arms came out to steady me. “Oh, shit! I didn’t see you. You okay?”

  “Yes, I was looking for you.” The strength of his arms made me feel safe.

  A beep from the television alerted me to a warning. Gael nodded in the direction. “We’re going to have to go to the storm room. The hurricane strengthened and now will be hitting within the next couple of hours, stronger than what they initially anticipated. Let me grab us some extra supplies, some clothes, and we’ll bunker down in a few. They also cancelled the Christmas Ball.”

  I hated the hurricane. For the past several weeks, I had been looking to getting all dressed up for Gael and going to the ball. Dancing and talking with all of the community I’d grown to love would have been fun.

  “What about your parents?”

  Gael gave me a secret smile. “They’re heading to the storm shelter we borrowed.” My face heated at the memory. “Looks like we’ll have another one to break in tonight.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Gael started for the kitchen and I reached for his hand. “Wait. I need to tell you something first and it can’t wait until we get to the shelter.”

  Concern etched Gael’s features as he looked me over. “What’s wrong?”

  I felt a freeness as I gave another piece of myself over to love. “I want to move in with you if the offer still stands. I love you, Gael. I want to take this next step with you. Fear of the unknown stood in my way earlier. The happiness I’ve found with you is like no other. Change is scary, but in this case, it’s right for us.”

  Gael’s face lit up as he picked me up and carried me upstairs. “We’ll have to be fast as we christen your new home. I need you, sweetheart.”

  Home. This is my home.

  As joy radiated from me, Gael's lips came down to kiss mine as we walked into the bedroom.

  The wind had picked up in severity in the forty-five minutes since Gael had taken me to his room to make love. The howling sound was eerie. Like every other time we were intimate with each other, our connection deepened for each other.

  There was a storm room beneath the staircase, similar to his parents. Briefly, once before, Gael had shown me where it was. But having grown up around storm shelters, I’d simply glanced in and moved on.

  About five minutes ago as we grabbed a few last-minute things, the power had flickered off as the intensity of the storm increased. Gael had a generator that kicked on for the fridge, freezer unit, and wine cooler. A chef would be concerned about the food. Internally, I’d laughed.

  Gael opened up the storm room door. It wasn’t as high tech as his parents had been with the automatic door. A huge crack sounded outside of the house.

  I yelped and Gael turned. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, let’s get in the storm room. I hate the cracking sound of branches.”

  Gael nodding. It was close to the sound of fireworks and sent shivers down my back. Lightning flashed and spilled through the cracks in the storm shutters Gael and I had put up earlier in the day. Thunder rumbled loudly, making its presence known, alerting us to the impending storm.

  Rain pelted the house. We walked into the storm room and Gael left the door cracked open.

  “Let me get the lantern going so we can see around in here since the power is out. Stay put, sweetheart.”

  Gael moved past me. A few seconds later, light illuminated the small room. It was semi-long and rectangular. On the right, a plastic twin mattress on a steal frame was in the corner. A small metal table with four chairs sat a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed.

  A small cabinet sat two feet across from the bed. Pointing to the cabinet, Gael explained. “These have food rations if the generator was to fail or we couldn’t get to the fridge, batteries, radio, first-aid kits, and more. Make yourself at home. I’ll get the radio going. We may have to stay the night in here depending on the aftereffects of the storm.”

  “I like how you guys did your shelter. Aunt Leelyn has one but it only has two benches that line the walls. We’ll actually get to sleep if we can’t leave.”

  “Among other things.” The pit of my stomach warmed at Gael’s suggestive words. “Let me get some sheets on the bed.”

  I nodded my head and grabbed the pillowcases from the cabinet shelf. Turning back I saw an old antique desk that had been behind me. I’d missed it on my initial look and when Gael had first shown me in here.

  “Gael, what is that desk doing in here? It’s beautiful.”

  I walked up to it as I let my appreciation for antiques I’d obtained from Aunt Leelyn show as I caressed the old wood. No doubt it was from the late eighteen hundreds to early nineteen hundreds.

  Looking back at Gael, he looked at the desk with disinterest. “What, that old desk? Mom and Dad brought it in here when they lived in the house. It fits and stores stuff so I never thought to move it.” Gael shrugged and unfolded the comforter before laying it on the bed.

  I ran my hands along the ornate trim. Whoever had manufactured this desk had done a resplendent job with the craftsmanship. Everything was seamless.

  An idea occurred to me. I’d only seen my Aunt Leelyn do this twice. Both times the lever had been underneath the desk. Aunt Leelyn said there were also discrete buttons for the more advanced version. Pulling the chair out, I lay on the wood floor and scooted myself underneath. The weathermen spoke in the background from the radio I assumed Gael had turned on.

  “Ashlin, what are you doing?”

  I ran my hands along the smooth wood feeling for any indentation. “Looking for a lever or a button.”

  “A what?”

  Continuing my methodical search, I answered. “From the looks of the desk, I would guesstimate it was made in the late eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds. There’s a marking on here of some sort that would indicate the craftsman and we’d be able to tell for sure. But, I’m looking for the lever or the button on the desk. It was common back then to put a safe vault in the desks for people to hide their most secret documents. If this one has it, chances are a drawer will pop out from the ornate carvings. The craftsmen were so good at hiding them, that unless you knew it was there, it’s nearly impossible to spot.”

  Gael crouched in front of the desk, watching me with interest. The storm continued to gain in strength from the outside. My fingers kept feeling the ultra-smooth wood until a small indention ran past my right forefinger.

  Finding the center of the indention, I pressed it and was rewarded with a spring loaded popping noise. My heart raced. I loved finding new things that had never been charted before. It was rare, but my love for history was ingrained deep.

  “I think it’s there along the bottom.” Gael pointed to the floor.

  Giving an excited little scream, I reached for it, then remembered myself. “You should do it. It’s your family’s heirloom.”

  “No, sweetheart. This is all you.”

  I reached down to the drawer and pulled it out. An old leather binder that was tied together lay in the bottom of the small drawer. I rubbed my hands along the two engraved letters and willed it to be true as I looked at the journal.

  Daniel Stowe. Gael was behind me, “Ashlin, shit. You may have found Daniel’s diary.”

  “Oh my gosh, Gael.” I handed him the journal. “You untie it.”

  Gael took the journal and untied it. Opening the first page, he read the inscription.

  Without a word, we scurried to the bed and I lay on Gael’s
chest. “Gael, this could be all the missing answers.”

  “Or it could leave us with more questions. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

  I looked at him as if he was crazy and he chuckled. “Come here, sweetheart, let me read to you.”

  Familiarity and warmth filled me as I had another piece of the couple I’d come to love. Gael opened the journal and read the words of his great-great-great-grandfather.

  OPENING MY EYES, I attempted to adjust to the light. My body ached everywhere and my head had never hurt so badly. Turning to my left, I noticed a young girl sitting in a chair clutching a book. She slept so peacefully. I couldn’t help but notice her long, brown, wavy hair was down and flowed over her shoulders.

  Attempting to sit up, I moaned. The young girl jumped up, dropping her book to the floor. She began speaking in French as she approached me and gently had me lie back down.

  “Détentez-bas, Monsieur.”

  Looking into her eyes, I attempted to talk.

  Smiling, she shook her head. “Non, ne parlez pas.”

  “America, I speak English.” I whispered.

  It was then I noticed the young girl was about my age. Her warm chocolate eyes lit up. “I speak English as well, Monsieur.”

  Thank God.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  Trying to form the words, I barely whispered. “Daniel.”

  “Daniel, I am Colett.”

  My eyes wandered around the room. It was a beautiful room. Paintings hung on almost every wall. The décor told me I was in a house of wealth.

  “Colett, where am I?” I asked with a scratchy voice.

  “Bordeaux, France.”

  Widening my eyes in surprise, I said, “France?”

  Nodding her, head she replied, “Oui, I mean, yes.”

  “W-what happened? The last thing … I remembered was the storm. They said … we wouldn’t make it.”

  Lifting my head, Colett gave me a warm smile. She reminded me of Sophia. Her eyes were filled with concern. “Daniel, the ship you were on sank. The storm took you hundreds of miles off course, toward France.”

  I wanted to ask more questions but my eyes were heavy.

  “Sleep, Daniel. Sleep.”

  The whispered voices woke me from my sleep. I wanted to stay asleep. Everything hurt, including my heart. Sophia … my beloved Sophia.

  “Colett, get out and get some fresh air. You’ve been sitting by this boy’s side for the last two months.”

  Two months?

  “Daniel. Mother his name is, Daniel. He woke up three days ago and spoke some.”

  Three days? I’ve been asleep for three days?

  Slowly opening my eyes, Colett jumped and smiled. “Mother, he is waking up again.”

  An older women who resembled Colett, leaned over me. Placing her hand on my head, she grinned. “His fever seems to have broken. This is good news. I shall call the doctor. Stay with him Colett. Don’t wear him out with your questions.”

  Nodding her head, Colett didn’t take her eyes from mine. “Yes, Mother.”

  Colett’s mother headed toward the door; opening it she looked back and gave me another smile before shutting the door.

  “Colett, where is Sophia?”

  Pulling her head back, her eyes widened in horror. “Was she on the boat with you, Daniel?”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to piece together what had happened. It slowly began coming back to me. Shaking my head, I whispered, “No. She is in Savannah. She is with child, our first baby.”

  Colett’s face seemed sad for one brief moment before she smiled again. “Daniel, that is such wonderful news. This should help you to recover faster, so you can return to her.”

  “What day is it, Colett?”

  Reaching for my hand, Colett’s smile faded. “November fifth.”

  My heart dropped. Sophia was six months pregnant. No. No, this is not right.

  Shaking my head, I sat up. “I need to get back to Savannah, to Sophia. What if she thinks I’ve died?”

  Yelling out in pain, I fell back onto the bed. “Daniel! Are you all right?” Turning to the door, she threw it open. “Papa! Please come quickly.”

  Less than thirty seconds later, a gentleman about my father’s age came running into the room and was by my side. “Daniel, please don’t move. You’ve been badly injured from the shipwreck.”

  Looking down, I had some strange contraptions on both my legs. My shoulder was killing me, along with my head, and my right hand. Lifting my hand I noticed the bandages.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Colett’s father pulled up a chair and sat down. Clearing his throat, he began telling me what had happened out at sea.

  “Daniel, my name is Phillipe. We are also from America. My family lives in France and I have a trading business so we travel back and forth a number of times a year. When my family and I came ashore, a very dear friend of mine came and found me. Said he had found a young man floating in the middle of the ocean, on what appeared to be debris from a shipwreck. You were badly burnt from the sun, and he could not get you to wake up. He is a fisherman and couldn’t afford to call the doctor. The moment my wife, Josephine, and my daughter Colett saw you, they became instantly concerned for you. We brought you here, to my family’s country house, outside of Bordeaux. I called in a doctor and he took a good look at you. You had two broken legs, a broken right hand that was in need of stiches. It was almost cut in half. Your left hand seemed to be broken as well. When you woke up, you had no memory of anything. You’ve been here with us while you have healed. Most of the time though, you have been asleep.”

  “It’s … been … four months. I left Savannah four months ago.”

  Nodding his head, he looked back to Colett before looking back to me. “Your ship hit a terrible storm and you were thrown off course. It appears your ship sailed about for over two months, lost.”

  Closing my eyes, it all started coming back. Nodding my head, I opened my eyes. “Yes, I remember. The storm hit and we were tossed about violently. The captain was thrown over while attempting to do something on deck. Then sickness hit, people started dying. I remember we had to start throwing their bodies over the ship, it was terrible.”

  Colett’s hand covered her mouth.

  “Then what happened, Daniel?” Phillipe asked.

  “Sophia. I must get back to Sophia.” I cried out. Phillipe turned and looked at Colett.

  “His wife. She is with child, and is back in Savannah.”

  My eyes landed on a painting. It appeared to be of Colett and her mother. I couldn’t help but smile. It was beautiful. Moving my eyes over to Colett, she gave me a tender smile.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Phillipe shook his head and looked down. “Son, I’m afraid you are in no shape to be moved. You’ve been running a fever for the last month, and it has finally broken. Your legs and hands appear to be healing well.”

  “No, you don’t understand, she’ll think I’m dead!” I shouted.

  A sob escaped Colett’s lips. Turning, she left the room.

  “Daniel, I need you to listen to me, son. When did your ship leave Savannah?”

  “July tenth.”

  Closing his eyes he turned away briefly before looking back to me. “She most likely has already been told your ship never made it to England. I’m afraid your wife already thinks you have died.”

  Tears began rolling down my cheeks. “I promised her, sir. I promised her I would come back.”

  Nodding his head, he stood. “And so you shall. My family and I will do everything in our power to get you home to your family. You must heal, though, Daniel. Now that you are awake, we can begin feeding you and getting you healthier. Colett will write a letter to your Sophia and let her know you are alive. I will personally sail you back to America in one of my ships.”

  “The baby, will I be back in time for the baby?” I asked with pleading eyes.

  “When was she to deliver?”

 
Attempting to control the trembling in my body, I whispered, “Late January.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Come,” Phillipe said in a controlled voice. A young girl walked in carrying a tray. Phillipe pointed to the table and she set it down, gave him a slight bow and made her way back out of the room.

  “The winter months is no time to be attempting to travel across the ocean, but we do it all the time. We shall get you healed up and healthy enough to travel. We will get you back to your Sophia, but I cannot say if it will be in time for the birth of your child.”

  Standing on the balcony, I looked over the French countryside. It has been over a month since I had woken up and learned I was in France. I was strong enough to get up and take short walks, but even I knew I didn’t have the strength or the health to make it across the ocean yet. My progress was not moving along as fast I would like. Hearing Colett clear her throat, I turned to her. Her smile reminded me of Sophia. Full of life. Her eyes were always sad, though. As if she knew the pain I felt. “There was no post today, Daniel.”

  Nodding, I turned back to the view. “I don’t understand why we have not heard back from my parents or Sophia. None of it makes sense.”

  “What of your uncle in England? We could draft a letter to him, maybe the post is having a hard time getting from France.”

  Spinning around, I looked at Colett. Her family had done so much for me. They treated me as if I was a part of their family. I would forever be grateful to them for their kindness. I had promised Phillipe I would pay him back every bit of money he had spent looking out for my well-being. He would not hear of it, he would say. I walked toward Colett. She had been my rock the last few weeks. My strength if you would. Taking her into my arms, I gave her a quick hug. “I do believe I would be lost without you, Colett. That is a very good idea.”

  Giving me a grin that said she was happy that I was pleased, she took my hand and led me back into the parlor. Sitting, she pulled out a piece of paper and the quill. As I talked, Colett wrote down my words. Folding the paper, Colett slipped it into the envelope and sealed it. “I shall deliver this to the post immediately. I have a few things to pick up for Christmas supper tomorrow.”