by Nina Bruhns
He had wanted to tell her how much he loved her. How all this was tearing him apart from the inside out. How, if he had his life to live over again, if he could change that single thing, omit the curse on Lord Henry…the very thing that had brought him back to life…
He blew out a breath. Would he?
Would he change it if he could? Would he save the boy, knowing that by doing so he would lose the woman he loved? Lose this new chance at a good life, to lie instead forever in a grave next to the one who betrayed him?
Mon Dieu, the Devil’s choice.
“Sully?”
“Aye?”
“Can we go to your room? This one is too depressing.”
He tried to muster a smile. “Of course. How about a bath?”
Her attempt to smile was as unsuccessful as his. “That sounds nice.”
So they went up to his room and stepped out of their clothes and ran a warm, fragrant bubble bath. He pulled her into his lap and they soaked together, her back nestled against his chest, for a long, long time. Not speaking, just being together. She tried to hide it, but he knew she wept again. And if truth be told, the moisture clinging to his own cheeks was not just from the tub.
They stayed until the water grew cold, then dried each other off. Neither felt like eating, so they climbed into the big, four-poster canopy bed and he held her in his arms and kissed her hair until finally she turned her face toward him and met his lips.
They made love—sad, tender, desperate love. They didn’t talk. There was nothing left to say. They let their bodies speak for them.
And her body told him she didn’t want to let him go.
His didn’t, either.
But when the phone rang, waking them in the early hours of the morning, he knew their time had run out.
“I need to speak with Elizabeth,” her mom’s worried voice said. “It’s Caleb. He’s back in the hospital.”
Elizabeth adjusted her airline seat all the way back and closed her eyes, struggling to hold in her chaotic emotions.
She’d managed to keep it together so far. It hadn’t been easy.
The hour taxi ride to the Charleston airport had been strained at best. Sully had insisted on going with her, but had no clue about taxis or freeways or airports or airplanes. He’d been skeptical when she’d informed him she would be riding in one of those silver specks in the sky, and plain horrified when he’d actually seen one take off as they drove up to the terminal.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end, she told the taxi to wait for him, checked her bags and gave him a long hug goodbye at security, shushing him so he wouldn’t make a scene for not being able to go any farther with her and get himself arrested.
He told her to call him. She promised she would. Then he gave her one last kiss and let her go, looking nearly as miserable and abandoned as she felt.
She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. But now she wished she had. For just one more glimpse of the man she would always love.
Her Prius was waiting for her in the Connecticut airport parking lot, so she drove straight to the hospital, rushed to Caleb’s room and gingerly opened the door.
His frail body lay under a bright white sheet, barely making a bump. He turned and greeted her with a tired but happy smile. “Bethy, you’re here! But what about your vacation?”
She sat on the edge of the bed and grasped his hand, still battling to keep it together. “Oh, sweetie, I wasn’t having any fun anyway. I wanted to come back and be with you. This is where I belong.”
“I’m glad you came home,” he said, and moved his head to look around her. “So, where is he?”
“Who, honey?”
“The man,” he said, and gazed back at her hopefully. “The man Mama said you were in love with.”
And that’s when she burst into tears.
Sully poured himself another shot from the bottle of rum he’d had the taxi stop to pick up on the way back from the airport. Tossing it back, he slammed the glass onto the nightstand and paced back to the window of his room at the Pirate’s Rest Inn. Outside, the afternoon sun reflected off the ever-moving surface of the inlet, glittering blue and gold. But today, even gazing out at the sea he loved so well could not cheer him.
For he was missing something else he loved even more. Elizabeth.
With a roar of frustration, he turned and paced back to the bottle. He’d had too much already, but it hadn’t deadened the feelings of despair and anguish that had burned in his heart since she flew out of his life just hours before.
Would it ever get better?
The phone rang. He spun and swiped it up. “Elizabeth?”
“Sully, old man!”
After a second of confusion he burst out, “Tyree!”
“None other, my friend. Did I just hear something about Elizabeth?” His friend’s voice was incredulous.
Sully groaned. “Mon Dieu, mon ami. You are not going to believe what’s happened.”
“Try me.”
So he did. He told Tyree everything, from his and Elizabeth’s first meeting in the garden, to sending her off in an airplane three hours ago. When he was finished, Tyree was silent for a few seconds, then he started to laugh.
Fury bubbled up in Sully. What the—“Are you insane? This is no laughing matter!”
“Ah, but it is, my friend. I am laughing because you have finally met a woman who is worthy of your love. Your single-minded, lifetime-loyal, all-obsessive love. It’s about damn time.”
“But I can’t have her!” Sully snapped, feeling more like an ill-tempered child than a notorious sea captain who could make men tremble with a single glance.
“Who says?” Tyree asked.
“She does,” he answered, his anger crashing into wretched misery.
“But I thought she asked you to live with her, build a home together. Doesn’t sound to me like she’s the problem.”
Sully pressed his lips together in frustration. “Caleb is the problem. She won’t have me unless I try to save her brother.”
“Are you sure?”
“Damn it, man, of course I’m sure!”
There was a pause, as though his friend doubted him. Sully wanted to reach through the blasted phone line and shake the man.
“Do you love her?”
“Tyree, the boy is a Sullivan. How can I possibly help him?”
“Do you love her?”
“And what about the voudou curse? There’s nothing I can do about that!”
“But, do you love her?”
“Yes, damn you, I love her!” he shouted desperately.
“Well, then,” Tyree said evenly. “There’s your answer.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Sully tried to press him further, but Tyree deliberately changed the subject and refused to go back to it, saying Sully had to figure out what was best all on his own.
Then Clara came on the line, too, and they regaled him with stories of the adventures they’d shared together thus far in their year-long sail around the world. By the time they hung up, Sully was green with envy over the trip, over their good fortune to be together and over their obvious love for one another.
Tyree loved Clara so much he would have moved heaven and earth to be with her. Hell, he did move heaven and earth and he lived through two centuries in limbo to find and be with her. In the end he’d even been willing to die for her love.
Did Elizabeth deserve any less from Sully?
Did Sully even deserve her love if he wasn’t willing to sacrifice everything to be with her? Everything?
Was that what Tyree meant when he’d asked if Sully loved her? And that his answer alone should tell him what he needed to do?
He did love her.
And suddenly Sully understood.
Love. Love was the miracle that had brought him back to life, not revenge.
Was he such a fool as to throw away something as precious as his love for Elizabeth and her love for him, for t
he sake of that hollow, empty reward? A revenge that was bitter and meaningless at best?
Love was the most important thing a man could have. His parents had died for it. For each other. And if Sully lost Elizabeth, it was Henry Sullivan who will have triumphed in the end, his poison having spread even to this distant time and place.
Elizabeth was right. He had been brought back for a reason. And now he saw that reason clearly.
But he must act. Soon.
Before it was too late.
Elizabeth felt a little better after getting something into her stomach. She hadn’t eaten since…she couldn’t remember. Between all the trauma yesterday and skipping dinner last night and breakfast this morning, who knew? But this evening her mom had recognized the signs of near collapse and sent her down to the hospital cafeteria while Gilda and Caleb watched their favorite reality show.
Food had helped. Elizabeth’s body, anyway. Her mind…
Not so good.
After her mortifying breakdown in front of Caleb, she’d run to the rest room and cried herself out. When she returned to his hospital room afterward, both her mom and brother had tried to find out what was wrong. But she didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to think about it.
Sully was gone from her life and she had to accept that.
So when she walked into Caleb’s room and saw Sully standing there by the bed talking to him, she didn’t believe her eyes.
In fact, she fainted.
When she awoke, she was in Sully’s arms and he was carrying her across the hall to an empty bed.
“No,” she protested, her mind clawing through the stars and the sharp smell of ammonia. “Please. I don’t want to leave Caleb.”
The nurse who was leading them frowned, and her mom, who was clutching her dangling hand and looking anxious, said, “But darling, you need to—”
“No, Mom.” She smiled and adjusted herself in Sully’s arms. Still not daring to look at him, lest he morph into a hospital orderly or security guard and prove she really was losing it. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. It’s just—” Just what? Excitement? Voudou? PTSD? “Jet lag,” she said lamely.
Both the nurse and her mom dissolved into portraits of doubt, but Caleb called out, “She can lie down next to me for a few minutes. I’ll make room.”
Sully reversed directions. As he did so she felt him lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. She put her nose to his throat and the scent of him inundated her senses, banishing all other smells, and she knew with comforting certainty she wasn’t hallucinating. It really was him.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and met his eyes.
He smiled. “Hi.”
She fought the emotions that flooded through her at seeing him. And she fought the seemingly endless font of tears that prickled.
“Hi,” she said. It was all she could manage without losing the battle.
“I flew in an airplane,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
A half-sob half-laugh escaped her. “You did?” After all the anxiety and trepidation over her flying…He must have been—“Oh, dear. The poor stewardess.”
“Steward, actually.” He came to a halt beside Caleb’s bed. “I told him it was my first time. I think it turned him on,” he added in a whisper. She giggled, but clutched his neck desperately when he tried to lower her. “Don’t want to lie down, chère?”
“No.” She didn’t want to let go of him. If she let go maybe he would disappear again. Maybe she was still unconscious and dreaming all this, his reassuring smell and all.
“D’accord.” He sat down on the edge of the bed instead, still holding her in his arms. She held on to him for dear life.
Caleb broke the awkward silence. “He’s the one, isn’t he?” he said enthusiastically. “See, you didn’t have to be so sad. I knew he’d come for you.”
Elizabeth gave a watery smile at his youthful naiveté. “And how did you know that, Squirt?”
Caleb grinned. “Because if he hadn’t, I’d have called him up and made him come for you. No one gets to make my sister sad!”
Elizabeth glanced up to see Sully’s lips twist in a somber smile. “That’s right, Caleb,” he said. “Brothers are supposed to protect their sisters.”
There was a commotion at the door, and the nurse spoke a few words to someone, then a different nurse came in looking all efficient and holding a cloth-covered tray.
“Here we are, Mr. Sullivan.” She stopped and took in Elizabeth sitting on his thighs. A disapproving frown appeared on her face. “Except you seem to be busy.”
“Not that busy. Here.” He lifted his less-occupied arm and shook it out. “Use this one.”
“What’s going on?” Elizabeth said, looking from the nurse to him, and then, stunned, to the hypodermic needle she unveiled on the tray.
“Sully came to be my donor!” Caleb piped up cheerfully. “He said he’s my cousin so we might be a match! He said maybe not, but he’d try real hard to be one.”
Her mom walked over to take Caleb’s hand, nodding happily when Elizabeth darted a confused glance at her for confirmation.
“Sully arrived while you were in the cafeteria. Introduced himself and said he wanted to be tested.”
Elizabeth could scarcely believe it. Joy flooded through her whole being. He’d changed his mind! “But…I don’t understand. How can you forgive…”
His smile turned gentle as he held his arm out for the nurse to stick. “I love you, Elizabeth, and nothing’s going to keep me from being with you. Nothing.”
Her composure crumbled. She was beginning to feel like a fountain she couldn’t turn off, but she just couldn’t help herself. She buried her face in his shirt and just cried. For happiness. For Caleb. For Sully’s mother and father. For the sheer love of the man who held her in his arms.
“That’s you, then,” she heard the efficient nurse tell Sully. “Bend your elbow. That’s right. Now. How about you, young lady? Have you had a test yet?”
She glanced up and wiped the flood from her cheeks. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m not a match.”
The nurse waved her hand, as though her answer were a pesky fly. “Don’t mean that kind. I mean—” She flicked a quick glance at Caleb and pursed her lips. “You know. A test.”
“I’m afraid I’m not—”
“You fainted, didn’t you? And, well, to put it bluntly, are you usually this hormonal? Tell me, do you have any tenderness…anywhere?”
There was an explosive pause.
“Oh, my goodness,” her mom breathed. “Darling, are you—”
But Elizabeth didn’t hear the rest of the question because she’d finally deciphered the nurse’s meaning and her head started spinning again. She gasped.
“What is she talking about?” Sully asked, his voice filled with concern. “What are hormones?”
She stared up at him, her mind blazing through the times they’d…“Oh, my God,” she whispered. The last time, that last night, they were both so upset they’d forgotten. And now she thought about it, maybe the time before that, too…
“She’s going to have a baby!” Caleb cried out, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Yippee! I’m going to be an uncle!”
“Caleb!” their mom admonished, turning an embarrassed shade of pink.
He looked triumphant. “Thank goodness! I thought I’d never get you married off so Mama can have grandkids.” Then his sweet little face faltered. He peered apprehensively at her, then at Sully. “You two are married, aren’t you?”
Sully looked like he’d seen a ghost. There was dead silence in the room for a moment, then he cleared his throat and found his voice. “We will be soon, Caleb. And we’ll be honored to make you an uncle.” It was Sully’s turn to falter. “That is—” He looked down at her, a thousand emotions running through his expressive brown eyes. “If you’ll have me, after…everything I put you through.”
But the one emotion that shone there brighter than all the rest was devotion. To her.
>
Her heart simply melted.
“Of course I will,” she whispered, all the love in her heart bubbling up and overflowing for this amazing man who was willing to give up so much for her. “I love you, too, Sully. More than you’ll ever know. And nothing will ever make me happier than being under your spell forever.”
Epilogue
Two years later…
S ully leaned back contentedly in his deck chair and gazed out across the marshy inlet behind his house, watching the fiery red and yellow orb of the sun slip slowly below the horizon. A soft, warm breeze rustled the sea oats and gracefully swayed the spartina grass, making ripples in the still waters that stretched in a half-moon around them. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, who was reclining on the chair next to him. Another perfect end to another perfect day.
Below the deck where they were sitting, beyond the jumble of the riotous flower beds and a stretch of lush green grass, their son, Jack, toddled o nto their long jetty, his pudgy little right hand clutching Gilda’s, his left gripping his uncle Caleb’s. They were all laughing as they ran onto the jetty, headed for the Clara Elizabeth.
“Uh-oh,” Tyree said with a chuckle from the porch swing where he sat cuddled with his wife, Clara, who more sprawled than sat next to him. “You don’t think your mother-in-law is going out there to check on our progress, do you?”
Sully grinned. The Clara Elizabeth was the sleek old sailboat he and Tyree were spending the summer restoring. But for some reason, between the sun and the ale and the crab traps and fishing poles—not to mention the amiable company—not a lot of headway had been made on the work lately. Shoot, the guys from the fire station kept dropping by and Tyree kept having to run up to the house to check on his eight-month-pregnant wife, and Elizabeth kept bringing Jack down to see his daddy, and Caleb kept asking ten million questions about sailing and carpentry and the proper way to hold a crab line and a thousand other things. The poor kid had led a sheltered life up there in Connecticut.