Restoring Dermot

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Restoring Dermot Page 24

by Andrea Boyd


  “All you need to do is pray. Ask God to forgive you of your sins, and ask Him to save you. It is that simple.”

  I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. “Can I do it too?”

  He looked at me for the first time and smiled. “You do not need my permission. You can both petition God right now while I pray for you.”

  I scooted forward in the pew, holding onto one in front of me and bowed my head. There was complete silence for a few moments before the vicar began praying out loud. “Dear Heavenly Father, these two women have been added to your family today. Bless them. Let them feel the power of your love. Let them feel your presence, your guidance, as they live out their lives. We thank you for the sacrifice of your Son that covers us with mercy and showers us with grace—neither of which we deserve. In Jesus’ holy, precious name we pray. Amen.”

  As I prayed along with the vicar, there was a release of more than just the tears streaming down my face. Nothing had changed, really. I was still my father’s daughter. Rian’s life was still in perilous danger. My future was just as uncertain as before. Yet, I had not felt so carefree since early childhood. It was a type of rebirth that I somehow knew would change everything.

  Thirty-three

  Rian

  “Ouch.” I flinched as Reagan’s needle plied through my flesh without mercy.

  “Hold still.”

  I watched as he tied off after the last stitch used to sew up my arm. I tried not to jerk away as he roughly dabbed more of his astringent ointment into the cut on my head. “That burns like the fires of Hades. Whose idea was it to make you a healer?”

  His throaty laughter only added to my irritation. “There you are. I was beginning to doubt you were the same boy who used to be my brat of a brother. You sounded like your old self just now. And to answer your question, Gwen insists that every one of our warriors has at least a rudimentary knowledge of wound care, and all must now carry a small medic kit.”

  “Does she still practice healing?” Gwen was the castle healer in Gilvary before marrying Reagan.

  “Every once in a while. I asked her if she missed it, and she said being a wife and mother was challenge enough that she did not have time to miss it.”

  “You two seem like the perfect couple.”

  He looked directly into my eyes. “Marriage takes a lot of work that is never-ending, but it makes my life worth living. Convincing Gwen to marry me was the best thing I have ever done.”

  Thinking over my own life choices, I could honestly say the same thing about Adrika—even with all our differences. Was she still mad at me? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? It could be that her feelings for me had cooled in my absence. Whatever the case, we would work it out.

  As Reagan moved on to the injured warrior next to me, I looked out over the carnage of our recent battle. Death touched every side. The sight of so much blood running down into the lake turned my stomach. Reagan had ordered the rocks forming the dam to be removed, sending the filth on down the Erin River. We had no choice. Hopefully, the river would clean itself before reaching civilization.

  Breaking up the dam had caused the water level in the lake to drop, leaving a dampened ring. Here, they piled the bodies to be burned. The ground was too hard to bury so many, and we could not take the chance of catching fire to what little brush existed in this drought-ridden land. I should be helping, but dizziness overtook me every time I tried to stand.

  The injured who could walk unassisted moved back to our original camp by the stream. The rest were placed on litters and carried. I refused to be carried so I stumbled along with a warrior on each side, having to stop and lose the contents of my stomach more than once. In all the battles I had participated in, I had never felt so weak and out of sorts.

  I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next several days. The heat was unbearable yet my body shook with chills with the fever that had set in. On the fourth day, I was finally able to sit up. As I drank a cup of broth made by boiling jerky with herbs, a commotion rang through the camp. General Cormac had arrived with more troops.

  I would not face him sitting down. I eased up from my pallet until I was standing. There was some initial dizziness that soon faded. Because of our past encounters, I could not find it in me to like him even a little, even knowing the man had only been following the commands of his king. “General Cormac, nice of you to join us now that the battle has been won.”

  He seemed unfazed by my sarcasm. “I just found out we were under attack a little over a week ago, or I would have been here sooner. The king has sent me with funds to hire more warriors and to build a fort to prevent this from happening again. Although, we are so far away from civilization here, that may present a problem.” He looked around as he spoke.

  “How could you have just been told, when the king sent me here weeks ago?”

  His gray eyes turned back to study me. “It is likely that message did not come from the king, or at the very least, he was ordered to write it. I have been instructed to give you this missive from the princess before divulging too many details.” He held out a thick packet of parchment with the king’s seal marked into the wax holding it closed. He then turned and walked away.

  Warmth flooded through me as I recognized Adrika’s flowing handwriting. I was shocked to learn the king was being held captive when she arrived back at the castle. I hurried through her description of the events that followed, my fear growing even though I knew she was safe now. She said she had been the one to kill Galik, but she did not give the details. The thought of her there without my protection sickened me.

  I glanced up, noticing my brothers watching me as I read. There was nothing personal in the part I had read thus far, so I handed the pages over to them and continued reading. I stopped again to process the king’s transformation afterwards. I never would have guessed he had ever given God a thought, and her reaction confirmed my fears. My wife was not saved.

  Rian, Father plans to relinquish his right to rule over to the two of us upon your return. We are planning your coronation to be held soon after your arrival back home. No one knows this—not even the general or Father’s advisors. This is the agreement I made with him. He tried to thrust the responsibility solely on me until you could join us. I cannot do this alone. Please hurry back to me.

  This was the first time she gave any indication that she missed or needed me with her, and it was all because she did not want to rule alone. The truth stung a little. Admittedly, the thought of ruling still excited me. It would mean I could begin the improvements I had planned for the betterment of the kingdom. Her next few paragraphs indicated the changes that were already beginning to take place. It only proved that she did not need me at all.

  I glanced once again at Reagan and Garrett with their heads together as they read. Should I share this bit of information with them? Adrika was right to want to keep it a secret, but I knew they would not tell. And I would need their support in this endeavor. I handed over that next page with the warning that it was not to be mentioned.

  It was only on the last page that the letter became personal.

  Rian, please forgive me for my actions after the ball. I understand why you reacted that way. There is no excuse in my defending Brett. He means nothing to me, while you mean everything. I miss you so much. If you do not make it back to me, I will never be able to forgive myself for my actions. I have a deep need to tell all I truly feel toward you, or better yet, to show you. I am begging you, please find some way to come back to me.

  With all my love,

  Adrika

  I wanted to pack up and leave that very moment, but there was too much work to be done. I looked up to find huge grins splitting both of my brothers’ faces. I reached to retrieve the pages of my letter as Garrett slapped me on the back.

  He leaned in and whispered. “Congratulations, Little Brother.”

  Reagan shook my hand. “Yes, congratulations. I am tempted to follow you home just so I can be there for the b
ig day, but Gwen would have my hide if I went without her knowing, and since it is to be kept secret . . .” Reagan left off with speaking, but it was obvious that he was seeking permission to go ahead and write to Gwen.

  “I agree that it should remain that way. As it is, too much could go wrong with the weak state Farris is in. Sorry. I would love to have all of you there. We could hold off on the proceedings until everyone arrived, but I fear we will barely make it home before time for the next Session meeting as it is. I am ready to be back now.”

  I winced as Reagan lightly popped my cheek a couple of times. The action seemed multiplied as it radiated through my injured skull. “No worries. That is still months away, and I expect you to come early to Gilvary and stay through Christmas, if you can.”

  “I imagine it is something else making his time on this journey seem insufferably long.” Garrett winked at me. “So, tell us, what was written on the last page of your letter. You forgot to share it with us, Brother.” The grin on his face indicated that he knew exactly why I had not shared the more private message found at the end of that letter.

  “It is nothing that you need to see. I need to go find the old general to see what the plan is.” As I hobbled away, their laughter put a grin on my face.

  We spent the next week building the walls of the fort. Everything needed was available. Timber was hauled down from the mountains. Mud, straw, and stone only needed to be gathered, and we had plenty of men to do it. By the time Garrett’s birthday arrived that sixth day in July, everything but the roof was completed. We celebrated that night with plans to leave the next morning.

  General Cormac and his men would stay to finish. Of those left, some would stay and train at the fort, others decided they had enough of fighting wars and would be headed home to their families. The rest, including Abel Pendergrass, would be headed back to the castle to continue their training there.

  Early the next morning, I hugged my brothers before we parted ways, rejoicing in the fact that I would see them again in mere months. Garrett and his men would travel with Reagan and his warriors into Gilvary where they would follow the Erin River back to Aisling. This way, there would be no mountains to climb, and they would be assured of fresh water along the way. The water from the lake ran clear now, but I imagined it would take a while before the image of how it was after the battle left any of our heads.

  It was the middle of July when we came in view of the castle in Dermot. I had never felt so weary in all my life. Thick black clouds had followed us home for the last three days of our journey but offered no relief. The humidity only made for more misery. Occasionally, thunder boomed through the atmosphere but not one drop of rain fell.

  As if sensing we were near the end, my horse sped up as we approached the stables next to the castle. We were greeted with much enthusiasm from the few stable hands and warriors who had been left behind. I listened, but did not pick up on anything alarming. I was ready to be home. I wanted more than anything to see my wife.

  Finally alone, I headed down the path leading to the castle. My gaze was drawn to the prison cells where I first began my journey down a path that would lead to me becoming ruler of this kingdom. I was now thankful for God’s guidance, but there was no nostalgia attached to these dank compartments. As soon as I got a chance, these cells would be razed.

  A fat raindrop hit my cheek, arresting my steps and my thoughts. I lifted my face up to the sky and a few more drops fell. As I turned to look again toward my destination, Adrika came out from the veranda leading to our chambers. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked my way. The rain picked up, giving off my favorite scent that only the start of a storm could produce. My steps quickened toward her as she began to run. We met halfway across the courtyard, and I swung her up into my arms, kissing her soundly. Her hands roamed my face and chest, as if assuring herself that I was truly there.

  I pulled back from her lips and pushed her damp hair from her face. “You are getting soaked.”

  “I do not care. I have missed you so much. Rian, I love you. Thank God, you are home.” She kissed my face and then found my lips again as she trembled in my arms.

  “I love you too, my princess. I love you and thank God for you.” I gave her one last warm kiss before lifting her in my arms and carrying her to our chambers with a heart full of wonderment at the gifts God had bestowed upon me—gifts I knew I did not deserve.

  If you would like to help me out, a good review is always appreciated! Thanks!

  This book is dedicated to:

  My grandmother, Myrtle Allen. There is no doubt in my mind that if you were alive today, you would be thrilled to have a writer in your family. Some of my best memories are of you telling your stories, singing to me, loving me despite my flaws. I miss being able to call you up and say, “Grandmother, would you pray for me?” Besides Jesus, of all the people waiting for me in heaven, I look forward to seeing you the most.

  And to my MawMaw, Ruby White. I am probably the most like you. Same stubborn attitude, same Ruby style, and I’d like to think I possess the same inner strength. Any artistic abilities I have also came from you. I remember all of your questions about heaven. I expect you are up there awaiting my arrival so you can give me the grand tour. I can’t wait!

  There were so many “God” moments that have brought me to this point in my calling. I am especially thankful for The One who sent these little affirmations.

  To my readers, I really hope you have enjoyed this series. I am moving on to Contemporary Romance for now and hope you will continue this journey with me. I love you all and thank God for you.

  I had a power tool in writing this novel that I didn’t have before. Thanks to my critique partner, Toni Shiloh, for helping me add details and spark to my writing.

  Thanks to Cheri Schueller for catching things my eyes didn’t see. Your help has been invaluable to me.

  Tammy Jackson, you have gone above and beyond in fulfilling your sister duties time and again. Love you.

  Thanks to Casha Whitaker for bringing Adrika to life.

  And thanks to my beta readers, Marie Boyd, Karen Giles, Ashleigh Payton, Sheila Miller, and Dana Smith.

  I would love to hear from you. My email address is [email protected]. You can also find me on my website- www.andreaboyd11.com.

  Books by Andrea Boyd

  The Kingdoms of Kearnley Series

  Securing Aisling

  Healing Gilvary

  Restoring Dermot

  Walden Beach Series/Contemporary Romance

  Irresistibly Yours

  Persuaded

  Love’s Redemption (2019)

  Sweet Tea Holiday Collection

  Heart’s Desire

  Mistletoe Kiss (Novella)

  Bio: Each of Andrea Boyd’s series represents a different genre but all fall into the category of romance. All offer an element of her own brand of humor. And all are a tribute to God.

  Besides writing, she loves spending time with her family, quilting, going to car shows, and driving around in her 1968 Barracuda convertible.

  Andrea lives with her husband, Tommy, and at least a couple of cats in York County, SC.

  HERE IS A LOOK AT THE first chapter of Heart’s Desire.

  “Aiden, you have a couple of customers waiting in your office. One of them said she’s here to buy a new car.” Lilly’s adoring grin always made feel Aiden uncomfortable.

  The red-headed receptionist at Weaver Dodge had been accused of sending the best sales to him. If that was true, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the owner’s son and everything to do with her school-girl crush. Unfortunately for her, he had absolutely no interest in pursuing the matter.

  Aiden leaned across the counter toward Lilly and spoke just above a whisper. “Is there someone else who can take them? I need to pick Kensli and Riley up early from daycare today. I’m taking them to the parade.”

  Shiloh’s Christmas parade was always the first Wednesday in December. In this
small South Carolina town, you were either a spectator or a participant. Most businesses closed early on the day of the parade. Aiden always took the kids, but this was the first year Kensli would really know what was going on. They had been talking about it all week at the daycare. She was so excited, which only made him look forward to taking her more.

  “Everyone else is busy. If you want, I can pick the girls up for you. We can be back and ready to head out as soon as you’re done.” Lilly covered Aiden’s hand with her own as she gazed up at him with her doe-like brown eyes.

  This girl was as obvious as a wig on a baby. She’d been trying to get him to ask her out since she started working at the dealership six months ago. Even if he was interested, she was at least ten years younger than him, which was definitely not what he needed.

  He slid his hand from beneath hers. “That’s okay, Lilly. Hopefully it won’t take too long.”

  He almost felt guilty at the deflated look on her face. He brushed it off, reminding himself that he’d never encouraged her. Aiden hadn’t been on a single date since Jenna left him over two years ago, and he had no desire to start.

  When Lilly said he had a couple of customers, the two women studying the pictures on his wall were not what had come to mind. One of them was dark and curvy, the other pasty-white and reed thin, and both probably old enough to be his momma. An old Paul McCartney song started playing in his head.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. My name is Aiden Weaver. What can I help you with today?”

  The dark and curvy one introduced herself as Aunt Ginger, which was strange. She wasn’t his aunt. She informed him that her green-eyed companion was Jamie Foster. Instead of telling him what they wanted, Jamie gestured toward the wall covered in pictures.

 

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