The Lost

She nodded and Father Joubay went on, pressing his advantage. “You have seen miracles in your work. Why is it more difficult to believe in the curse of evil?”

“You called it the devil’s miracle.”

“Yes. Like the planes that destroyed the World Trade Center. Like the nightmare of slavery in America or the children who destroyed i

“But there are many other curses like the one that Sebastian must endure, curses that do not impact the whole world.” He took her hand. “We could have been spared every one of those events, great and small, if one person had done the right thing.”

“What right thing?”

“Only God knows who or what would have led to a different ending to those tragedies, but there is always someone who could have changed what happened.”

“But no one stopped the Oklahoma City bombing or the Holocaust.”

“That’s true. But someone changed the heart of the man who would have destroyed the San Francisco Bay Bridge and the men set on destroying the Tokyo water supply. A beautiful sunrise convinced your mother not to abort you.”

“Yes, I know that story but not the others.”

“No one knows of those others because they never happened and never will. Goodness in some form changed a heart and drove all thought of hatred from them. And, you, Isabelle, are the one who can change Sebastian Dushayne’s life.”

“You ask too much of me.”

Father Joubay stayed silent, and Isabelle knew what he was waiting for.

“I’ve lived such a sheltered life, at least it was sheltered until I became a nurse. And even since then I have never had a serious boyfriend. How can I help a man as mired in dissipation as Sebastian Dushayne?” Isabelle asked as she pulled her hand from his and folded her arms.

“Because, despite his lifestyle, you can see the good in him. Because you freed me from the curse. Because your heart has love to spare. When our eyes met in church that day I had never felt so hopeful. It was as though you understood.”

“It’s absurd and this is just a dream.” She took the cross away from him and put it back on the shelf. “It’s my mind’s way of making sense of this.”

“Isabelle, do not let the scientist in you reject what the woman of faith believes. Look around you and see that the healer tells the truth.” Father Joubay spoke with a doggedness that belied the gentle way he patted her hand.

A cock crowed and Isabelle woke up, the image of the man disappearing along with the storm and the furious seas.

The sky was leaden today as if rain was inevitable. Taking a page from the healer’s book, Isabelle left a note under her door saying that she was taking the day off. Then she walked on to the castillo, allowing the scientist in her to rule the day.

She visited the kitchen, a massive vault of a room kept cool because it was mostly belowground. A line of windows ringed the ceiling to let in light.

All the household work was done by hand and even in the morning there were already five people busy preparing the main meal of the day. The staff was welcoming, the chef a

There were contemporary clocks but no timers. Spoons of all kinds, except plastic, but no wire whisks or eggbeat ers. The fireplace had a baking oven to the side but there was no sign of a microwave or a conventional cooking range. Huge porcelain sinks looked contemporary but the hand pump was not.

Isabelle wandered around the castillo, finally getting a sense of the place as it was before it became one man’s prison. It must have housed hundreds of soldiers once and the construction of the time was impressive.

The Castillo de Guerreros was hundreds of years old but showed little sign of deterioration.

Isabelle found the room she had woken up in after the shipwreck. The curtained bed and candles made more sense now.

The window overlooking the harbor was open and she could hear shouting from the beach.

A group of men and older boys were playing some kind of game. But it was Sebastian who caught her attention. Stripped down to an odd undergarment, a cross between boxers and briefs, he was a magnificent contrast to the darker, shorter islanders with whom he was playing.

The game involved ru

Sebastian was in such good humor that Isabelle hardly recognized the man who had been so awful to her the night before. She loved watching the way he controlled his body, the ripple of muscles, the flex of his buttocks as he kicked the ball, his agility in avoiding opponents who wanted to stop his progress, the way he bent over, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

The game grew more heated and one of the younger players broke ranks and took a punch at a boy on the opposing side.

The game stopped and Sebastian switched roles, from player to coach. With an arm around the young man’s shoulder he took him to a spot in the shade and they talked. Well, it appeared Sebastian mostly listened while the boy talked.

The others ignored the discussion, drank or found a shady spot to cool down. A few minutes later Sebastian and the boy returned to the team, the boy said something to the guy he’d punched and the game resumed, all ill will gone.

The competition ended a few minutes later with much cheering and back slapping. Then the men stripped off their clothes and ran into the water. When he was waist deep, Sebastian looked up and waved to her.

Isabelle raised her hand to him, but ducked out of sight when the others tried to figure out to whom he was waving.

Those few minutes told her as much about Sebastian Dushayne as she had learned in all their conversations. He was a natural leader, respected by his fellow islanders, capable of being a team player or a peacemaker as needed. He found pleasure in the physical and that meant more than sex. And, oh, yes, he had a fabulous body.

It was a shame that the man’s talents had been limited to this little world for so long. If there were any chance she could free him, she would. With that thought Isabelle realized she did believe that Sebastian Dushayne and Father Joubay had been cursed. For two hundred years.

There was no scientific proof. It was the man and the place, the aura that surrounded both. Despite his youth and good health, the way everyone referred to him as “the master” epitomized the feeling that Sebastian Dushayne was not a part of this world.

But wanting to help him and acting on it without debasing herself were two different things. Isabelle had no idea how she could do it and prayed with all her heart that there was a way.

There is. The two words came to her in a whisper as quiet as a raindrop.

She prayed again that Sebastian would believe. No quiet word reassured her that he would.