Cora’s face lit up like a child’s would at the conclusion of a fairy tale when the happy ending is revealed. “You were her . . . the one he’d searched the world generations for. He’d found you, beyond all possibility and all reason, he found you.”
Her smile was blinding, but I was too stunned for it to take effect. I felt like a punch had just been delivered into my gut. My breath was swiped out of me and my mind was wiped clear of any rational thought. All I could hear was Cora’s voice in my head repeating, You were her . . . he found you.
I was the woman Patrick had been referring to yesterday. I was the woman he thought William would never get over, and, beyond every miracle, I was the woman he never would. It was too much to process, too much joy to take in at once. It overtook me in waves, with growing speed and frequency.
My body . . . my heart, couldn’t take it all in, and as I felt the instinctual response taking hold of my mind and body, all I could see was the image of his face above mine. He was wet, like he’d just been on a swim, and the starry night sky loomed above his perfect face. He was looking down at me, unequivocal concentration surrounding the aura of his face, while the center radiated with love.
My William screamed, “No, Bryn. Don’t go . . . stay with me.”
And as I felt my body rocking back in the chair, before my mind shut down temporarily from the overload of emotions running within it, I recognized this vision of William was not a dream; but when he’d pulled me out of the ocean that night and tied me eternally to him when he shared his Immortality with me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
COLLISION
“What did you two do to her?”
An angry voice stirred my peaceful slumber which had been fraught with the happiest of dreams.
“It’s Cora’s fault. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut.” Another angry voice broke through the diminishing haze.
“I didn’t mean to upset her,” a trembling voice added. “She was fine one minute, and went out cold the next.”
I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew there’d be multiple pairs of sapphire and pale blue staring down at me anxiously; but I knew the pair I loved the most would be nearest, and with that reassurance, I opened them.
“I didn’t think Immortals could pass out like that,” said a husky voice, which sounded like Nathanial’s.
A loud, rolling laugh—definitive of Patrick—roared. “Hey William, I think I’ve figured out what Bryn’s gift is.”
William ignored him, and relief soothed his wrinkled face when my eyes fluttered open.
I couldn't let Patrick’s comment slide like the saint looming above me could. "Hey Patrick," I called out, and the surrounding laughter was instantly silenced when everyone heard and saw I was awake. "If my talent is passing out, what's yours . . . being the most obnoxious Immortal in existence?"
William was the first to erupt in laughter, and the rest joined in soon after. I was pretty sure I even heard Patrick join in about mid-way through.
"Actually, smarty-pants." Patrick walked over so he was in view. I’d been laid out on a sofa and a pillow was positioned under my head. "My gift—or talent you might call it—is casting a hypnotic spell on beautiful young women with my good looks and debonair charm." He smiled his most charming smile, as if to prove his point, but it had no affect on me.
All I could do was roll my eyes and return them to the man I loved, still hovering beside me. When I looked at him, I was reminded of the many times he'd put me in a near hypnotic state, and knew Patrick was wrong—it was his older brother that possessed this talent.
"How are you feeling?" William's hands ran over my face as a mother might search for a fever on her child.
"Stop fussing over her, she's fine," Patrick directed, taking a seat on the fireplace edge. "She's back to her sweet old self—verbally abusing me every chance she gets." Patrick formed his mouth into an overstated pout.
"I'm fine,” I assured the face hanging above mine. “I can't believe I went out like that. I'm sorry you had to come back so soon." I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair.
"Don't worry about it," he reassured me, as he reached for my hand and drew it to his lips. "We were on our way back anyways."
He pressed his lips into my palm. "What happened?"
The reminder of the knowledge I'd acquired before my body shut down from the overwhelming joy that had flooded it, caused all the euphoria to return. The muscles in my cheeks ached as they pulled my smile wider.
"Dinner's ready!" Abigail called around the corner before I could answer his question. "Don't even think you're not going to sit around the table with your family tonight, William. It's been months."
I saw William's mouth open in objection, but I raised my finger to his lips before he could offend his sister-in-law. I wasn’t going to give her another reason to not like me, and William didn’t look like he was planning on leaving my side.
"Let's go, that banana bread has been calling my name all afternoon." I swung my legs around and stood up without a problem, but William couldn't resist the urge to assist me in everyway possible. He practically carried me into the kitchen, needless as it was.
"Let me know if you need any more help there, William. She's looking a little pale again,” Patrick called out as we rounded the corner.
William turned his head, examining me carefully for signs of another swoon on my horizon. I scowled at Patrick as he took his seat at the table and stuffed his mouth with a heavily buttered piece of bread. He met my scowl with his own toothy smile, continuing to chew through it.
William sat me down in a chair at the end of the table and he took his seat at the head. Nathanial sat opposite him at the other end. When everyone was situated and sipping their coffee in between mouthfuls of the bread that tasted even better than it smelled, and laughing merrily as a family should, my eyes fell on the quietest member of our party of seven.
Abigail’s eyes sparkled as she gazed with love at every member of her family sitting around the table, minus me, the wannabe Hayward. If William was the head of this family, Abigail was the mother. Her maternal instincts were apparent in the proud gleam of her eyes, to the way she made sure everyone else was taken care of and eating before she took her own seat. This family was her life.
The informal dinner continued; endless stories were told, and retold, and the eruption of laughter was infectious. I found myself laughing close to tears on several occasions. My favorite part of the whole gathering was witnessing the light-hearted joy that flowed from William. With his family, his smile was as easy as Patrick's and as brilliant as Joseph's.
His laughter rang throughout the entire house and reverberated off the walls. It was the purest sound I'd ever heard. The family ties were strong, and given these two couples would split their time in two locations just to see their single brothers on occasion, their love and commitment to one another was without question.
We were finishing up dinner when William squeezed my hand. "Do you mind if I steal you away for awhile?" He lowered his voice. "I've been dying to get you alone all day, and it doesn't appear they're going to let that happen unless I grab you and escape." His pale blue eyes sparkled with excitement, causing my mouth to go dry. I'd been wondering—more like hoping—we'd have some time alone to ourselves soon.
"Steal me away," I whispered back.
William smiled and stood up, pulling me with him. "Thank you so much for the amazing dinner, Abigail." Her face lit up at his thanks. "But if you'll all excuse us for awhile, Bryn and I are going for a walk."
As soon as he'd made his announcement, a chorus of objections was yelled, Joseph complaining the loudest. "Come on, William, you're not doing this to us again. You know the tradition—dinner, followed by a game . . . and it's my turn to pick!"
It was comical how serious Joseph was—he was truly upset his big brother was ditching out on the tradition of a game of Charades or Scrabble . . . whatever they played.
"Let him go," Cora soothed her husband. "They need some time alone." She probably figured her revelations to me today were the reason we needed this.
"Oh, pleeeeease . . . my big hero of a brother who I idolize, and look up to, and dote on." Patrick pulled his best vocal impersonation of Joseph. "Why would you want to leave with a beautiful woman to take a romantic moonlit walk when you've got board games and family waiting?"
Patrick continued his whining impersonation of the youngest Hayward brother, until William signaled to Joseph with a wink, and in a split second they charged Patrick and tackled him onto the loveseat behind them. Nathanial couldn't contain himself, and another second later he was on top of them all, sandwiching the beautiful, dark-haired brothers between he and Patrick.
Cora, Abigail and I watched with grins on our faces, enjoying the camaraderie of the four brothers and cheering for our own Hayward boy. It was hard to tell who won, or if any of them had, but William was the first up. He ran to me and grabbed my hand, while his three brothers continued their brawling on the assaulted loveseat and the overflow of the floor.
"Come on, let's go." He pulled the slider door open and we ran at a full sprint— leaving the cheer and warmth of his family and the cedar-planked cottage—for the sparkling, white sand and the ocean striped by moonbeams.
We didn’t stop running until we were a good mile down the beach. William obviously wanted to put some distance between us and his family, in case his rowdy brothers decided they weren’t going to let him go so easily. Slowing to a walk, we sat down to remove our shoes.
“Your family is amazing. They adore you,” I said. We stood up and walked down to the surf’s edge, carrying our shoes in one hand and holding hands with our other.
“I don’t know about the adoration part, but they’re certainly wonderful. They’ve been there for me through many hard times.” His eyes squinted as if he was remembering something from his past. “They never gave up on me—loving me far more than I deserve.”
I squeezed his fingers. “I highly doubt that. It would be impossible to love you more than you deserve.” I stared up at the moon; it was high and bright tonight, and the way it highlighted the planes of William’s face made me feel I was hovering in a dream as opposed to real life. His thumb massaged gently into the side of my hand, and I closed my eyes so I could experience nothing but his touch and the current that he emitted into me: steady, gentle and intimate.
“So,” he said hesitantly. “You were going to tell me what happened before you passed out tonight. Would you mind telling me now?” he asked so shyly, it would have melted any resolve I had against telling him.
“Of course, I’ll tell you.” I didn’t admit to him if he used that same tone with me again, he’d be able to derive anything from me he wanted. “Cora was telling me some stories—stories about you and your history.”
“What stories?” he asked slowly, stress lines forming on the outer corners of his eyes.