Epilogue – Hunter’s Story #4
“Why do we hurt each other so much?” I asked Him.
“You don’t know you’re not meant to fight alone,” He murmured.
Gradually, her breathing slowed, and she burrowed under an old Sage Ridge fleece blanket.
When her cell phone rang, she snapped it up.
Max’s name flashed across the screen.
“Answer the phone, Wrennie,” I urged.
You don’t know you’re not meant to fight alone.
Her eyes flared wide with panic, and I began to lose hope, but then her lips curved in a small smile.
She picked up the phone and tried to speak.
“Wren? Tweet?” Max’s concerned voice broke the silence. “Are you okay?”
“Max,” she whispered.
“Wren.” His voice guttural, he demanded, “Tell me you’re safe.”
“Safe,” she hiccoughed.
“Okay, baby girl. Okay.” Rustling sounds came from his side of the phone. “I’m on my way. Give me fifteen minutes to pack a bag. I’ll call you from the car. I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.”
The curtain closed.
I heaved a deep breath and hazarded a glance at Him. “This hurts.”
“Love does.” He paused. “Rest a while.”
I needed it.
But it didn’t take long for the restlessness to set in. It didn’t help that my partner in crime was a tiny, feisty, Irish lady who would have given me a run for my money back in the day.
I rubbed my hands together with glee. “You feel the pull yet?”
The resort my parents owned hosted a lot of weddings. I’d always been a fan. The idea of attending her granddaughter’s wedding thrilled me.
“Shut your gob or He’ll hear us,” she snickered.
“He hears you,” He answered wryly, stepping out in front of us. Turning to me, he asked, “What are you doing? This isn’t part of your journey.”
I shrugged, throwing a wink at the elderly lady who had become my best buddy. She insisted I call her Nan though, at times, she looked no older than 35. “It’s a side quest.”
His eyes twinkled. “A side quest? Really?”
“Ach, he’s a wee bit bored is all.” Nan put her hand on His arm. “I’ll keep him out of trouble,” she promised.
“You?” he teased. “Pot meet kettle.”
I laughed. “Listen, I’m used to a certain amount of activity. I don’t know what Aaron needs from me yet. I held out my hands in a universal shrug. “Side quest.”
With a smirk, He stepped away and waved us on with a flourish.
“I thought we were in trouble there for a wee minute,” she cackled, tucking her hand into my elbow. “You’re going to meet my granddaughter.”
“Is she in trouble?”
Her face lit up. “Only in the best of ways!”
I groaned. “Do I want to know?”
She looked to the ceiling. “Probably not.”
“Why are we going down there?”
Her brow furrowed. “Down?”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?” I grumbled. “What’s our mandate?”
“Shae’s got no family left. We’re just going to send her off. Let her know she’s not alone.”
She slanted a superior glance at me. “You know, the Irish are not so far removed from the veil.”
I opened my mouth to respond but she cut me off.
“Ach, would you look at her? She’s gorgeous,” she breathed.
“She is,” I readily agreed, the sharp pang in my heart reminding me of what I, at one time, so desperately wanted.
We stood in a small room at the very front of the church. Sunlight streamed through a stained-glass window, painting the floor with light.
I’d always felt uncomfortable in church, even when I was quiet, I felt too loud, too big, too much. Sequestered in that tiny room? I felt enormous and enormously out of place.
I shifted from one foot to the other as Shae stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the lace of her dress.
“That’s Irish lace,” Nan informed me with tears in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful, Nan,” I murmured, watching as she moved closer to her granddaughter.
Her face lit up with barely restrained glee. “Well, I’ll be damned!”
I looked around. “Not sure you should say that in church, Nan.”
“When you reach a certain age, son, you say what you like,” she retorted softly. “She’s wearing Mrs. Wemberly’s earrings, that old bat. She outlived me.”
I snorted.
“You see that tiara?”
“What’s a tiara?”
“It’s a crown, you heathen. I wore that on my wedding day.”
“I bet you were a stunner,” I teased.
“I was,” she agreed with no sense of false modesty.
Shae faced the mirror. “Okay, Nan?” she whispered softly.
“Oh,” Nan breathed, moving around to face her granddaughter with her heart in her eyes.
Shae picked up her clutch and rifled through it. “Oh no,” she murmured, patting herself down for pockets that didn’t exist. “Did I put it in the vanity?”
“It’s in the drawer, love,” Nan insisted. “Open the drawer.”
Shae touched the drawer, tilted her head to the side, and slowly pulled it open. When a lipstick rolled to the front, she smiled and carefully smoothed the color over her lips.
Her voice barely quavered as she faced Nan. “Are you proud, Nan?”
“Infinitely,” Nan whispered back, touching Shae’s face. “Shae, darlin’, may the dreams you hold dearest be those which come true.”
Shae opened the door and lit 6 candles. With each one, Nan uttered a prayer.
Then she turned to face the aisle.
“Right, lad,” she clapped her hands together. “Here’s where we come in.”
“I’m ready, Nan,” I assured her as she danced out into the aisle and started waving her hands.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
She laughed. “You don’t have to whisper. Aren’t ye dead?”
“He can hear,” I whispered, pointing to the ceiling.
“Give your head a shake, child,” she reprimanded me. “Get out here and wave your arms around. I want my Shae to smell these roses and know I’m with her.”
I followed her orders, tentatively at first, but her joy was contagious. Soon I found myself sweeping her up and down the aisle in a wild dance that was a cross between the two-step I was familiar with and some sort of wild Irish jig.
We stopped at the front of the church where Nan thanked her two best friends for coming with a kiss to each cheek.
On the altar, Gabe’s little daughter, Dylan twirled in a slow circle.
“Aren’t you a wee doll,” Nan breathed. Kneeling, she fluttered Dylan’s little dress higher, making her laugh.
Gabe jolted, taking two steps forward before forcing himself to step back in place.
Dylan stopped short and slapped her little hands onto her cheeks and squealed, “Mommy, you look like a real-life Barbie!”
The church rang with surprised laughter.
Gabe grinned widely as his eyes lit up.
Shae beamed.
And Nan cried.
I put my arms around her, holding her back to my front so as not to block her view.
She laughed as Shae rolled down that aisle like she’d done it a million times before.
A strangled sound came from Gabe.
His smile faltered as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
Then his dark brows lowered.
“Well, I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating crackers,” Nan confided, eyebrows high.
I snorted out a laugh.
“That’s my priest,” Nan confided. “He’s married with a pile of kids. The girls call him the Pied Piper of Pussy.”
“Nan,” I whispered, scandalized.
She cackled.
Shae was still ten feet away, but, as if he couldn’t wait any longer, Gabe stepped forward. Smiling through his tears, he held out his hand.
He weaved his long fingers through hers and unceremoniously tugged her up beside him.
Nan drifted closer, smoothing her fingers over Shae’s blushing cheek, then stepping back.
Shae threw her arms around Gabe’s neck and laughed.
His eyes smiled into hers. “You love me, Shae-baby?”
She beamed.
And, with her Nan, promised, “Infinitely.”
I returned with a snap of lightning electrifying the length of my spine.
“Jesus! What the fuck was that?” Looking around, I saw Him.
I winced. “Shit! Sorry about that.”“About what?” His mouth curled into a slight smile.
“Taking Your name in vain, You know.”He rolled His lips against His teeth and shook His head.
“That’s not quite what that means.” He wagged His head back and forth.
“It’s more don’t use that name to manipulate people or situations.
For example, God says men are the head of the household, yada yada yada…
Using My name to keep women subservient, creating obstacles in their paths. ” He snorted. “Truly fucking ironic.”
I gaped at Him, at how much sense He made, and how we were too dense to see it.
Shrugging off His irritation, He pulled the curtain aside. “That’s Kian.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Kian is Aaron’s dad? He’s ripped.”
“He’s in construction.”
“His family’s a mess. Hope those hands are good for building more than houses. Is his wife coming dow— with me?”
He shook his head. “Not everybody’s after-journey is the same.”
“Aunt Christine and I were on the same journey to help our family?”
“Not quite. Christine was here for you.”
I searched His eyes. “Thank you.”
He gave a slight nod, a slighter smile. “Aaron is about to make the biggest mistake of his life.”
I snapped to attention. “What is it?”
“He’s driving to Harley’s place right now. When he leaves, he’s going to be upset.”
I searched eyes fractured with the pain of the universe. “What does he need?”
“When he leaves, Hawkley needs to drive the car.”
I paced away from Him, feeling the weight of my responsibilities. When I paced back, the leaves carpeting Hawkley’s forested yard crunched beneath my feet.
Hawkley swung an axe, splitting the rails in front of him.
I stepped up beside him. “Aaron needs you,” I informed him.
He continued to split wood.
“Hawk,” I called sharply. “Aaron needs you.”
He continued unabated. The link I believed we’d forged at the cabin seemed to be broken.
“Hawkley!” It came to me then. Perhaps ‘Aaron’ wasn’t the name that might penetrate. “Harley!”
He paused, his eyes flickering to the woods.
“Harley needs you, Hawk. She needs you. Go to Harley.”
“Noelle!” he barked, slamming the axe down into the tree trunk.
My eyes flew to his front door, watching with a smile as Noelle stuck her head out. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to check on Harley.” He strode toward her and dropped a hard kiss on her lips.
Noelle’s brow furrowed.