WidowsWalk
Page 11
Be happy.
With love and affection,
Your Great-aunt Emmaline xxoo
Lindy began to repack her suitcase. New England was no longer her home. She had friends and she would miss them but she figured they wouldn’t mind coming to visit her in a craggy house by the sea. Sometimes you have to give things up to get what you want. Besides, if she waited for Tom to make up his mind she might end up just like her Aunt Emmaline, her time already passed by.
She knew what she wanted and she would find a way to get it. It’s not like he doesn’t want me. He just needs a bit of a push. She needed a plan.
She went to the storage unit where the sum total of her belongings were crammed in a ten-by-fifteen space, just as she had haphazardly left them when she had sold her condo. She sold the furniture, gave to charity was she wouldn’t need and made arrangements to have the rest of the boxes shipped over to England. She booked a one-way ticket back to London Heathrow and prayed it wasn’t too late.
* * * * *
The taxi dropped her at the top of the road, the weather-beaten gate still squealing as it swayed back and forth in the sea breeze. This time she wore her walking shoes, a heavy sweater and jeans. Not that she would ever give up her silly dresses and high-heeled shoes—or her daydreams. But if she was going to embark on the biggest journey of her life, she would have to be prepared for reality.
The late-winter wind bit into her skin and the pain reminded her she was alive and willing to risk it all. Be a fool for love. She dragged her bag behind her, the clunk of its heavy weight dropping on each step as she headed down the worn timber stairs.
As she reached the bottom of the hill, she stopped and watched the whitecaps dance along the blue-green waters as the waves rushed toward the sand. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t regret living out her days here on the rugged Cornish coastline. Taking a deep breath, she searched for her key and made her way to the porch.
Tom’s siren masthead hung proudly above her porch. Her long golden hair appeared to be floating on the brisk breeze. Lindy felt the first drop and started to laugh. For the first time in years, salty tears ran down her cheeks. All the pain and disappointment in her past seem to melt away with the release. Yes, she was frightened but she did not want to live with a single regret.
The key turned round and round in the lock. Pushing her hip against the weather-beaten wood, the door opened and once again she tumbled inside.
“Jeez, can’t even make it in the front door without falling. How will I ever make it through this journey?” She laughed until the tears began again.
She could not believe the masthead was there. So many questions tumbled through Lindy’s mind. Did he find out it was Emmaline or did he know all long? Did he know I would be back? Has he been waiting for me to return? Why didn’t he just call like a normal person? Well I can’t wait to find out.
Lindy did not have to wait long before Tom arrived. She saw the long tanned fingers reaching out to her just as they had so many months ago and her aunt’s words echoed in her head. Take his hand and together you will find a way through anything.
She looked up at Tom. He was waiting. Waiting for her to take his hand. She laced her fingers with his and smiled through her tears. She could see his body relax as he exhaled deeply.
“Captain Tom Phillips, at your service.”
“Belin—Lindy. Just Lindy.” For the first time, Lindy knew who she was and that she was okay with just being Lindy.
Tom lifted her to her feet and she pushed the sandy hair back from his eyes. Looking at him, into him, truly for the first time she was suddenly no longer afraid.
“Are you ready then?”
“I am.”
He squeezed her hand and together they walked back outside to the porch. Sitting companionably side by side on the glider, Tom’s arm draped around her shoulder, Lindy looked at the image of her great-aunt carved into the face of the masthead. She appeared to be smiling and Lindy knew that somewhere Emmaline and Benjamin were sitting side by side, happy to finally be together again.
The End
About Genevieve Ash
Genevieve Ash has been telling stories for as long as she can remember. When she was a child, she would tell her family fantastical tales garnered from the equally fantastical daydreams that fueled her imagination. They usually involved a knight in shining armor.
Writing erotic romance is Genevieve’s passion. She marvels at the incredible power words have to bring people closer to one another and create intimacy. If you ask her what she believes, she will tell you without hesitation, “I believe in the fairytale.”
Genevieve is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the NEORWA.
Genevieve welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Genevieve Ash
Bondage at Sea
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Widow’s Walk
ISBN 9781419949760
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Widow’s Walk Copyright © 2014 Genevieve Ash
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Cover photography by Hank Shiffman, Artem Furman/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication January 2014
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