The Lost

He smiled, not quite showing his dimples, and kissed her as if it was the only answer he could give. That kiss, filled with a sweetness she had never felt before, gave her hope. He leaned back and now there were dimples showing. “This is too much theology for me. I came to invite you to watch the moon rise with me.”

“All right.” Indeed she had said quite enough. “I imagine you know the perfect spot.”

“I do.” He bowed a little and offered his arm.

She took his hand. It startled him and she decided it would be an evening of discovery for both of them. “Is it far?”

“On the top of the fort.”

“Let’s hurry. I don’t want to miss a moment.”

Isabelle held tight to his hand as they hurried up a ramp, to move guns, he said. They dashed around the outer wall where the gun mounts stood empty and up three sets of stairs. At the very top of the castillo there was a long line of guardhouses that marked the side of the fortress that faced the harbor.

All the while they held hands. His hold was awkward and she loved him all the more for it.

Isabelle let go of his hand, walked over to the wall and looked out to the harbor.

She loved him.

Of course she did. Stupid girl, she chided herself. How else was this story to play out? She could hardly give herself to a man without love. Had actually worried about it a little, knowing how much she wanted him. Now she did not have to worry about it anymore. This was living life to the fullest for her. She had no doubt.

Isabelle twirled around and leaned back on the rock and instantly felt the rock give way. She choked out a scream as she fell, the backs of her knees hitting the broken part of the wall and sending her into the black night.

“No!” Sebastian roared. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. They fell to their knees. Isabelle held on to him as if he were the only real safety in her world. She buried her face in his chest as she heard the broken chunk of the wall bounce off another rampart and fall into the sea.

“I was going to tell you how perfect that spot was,” Isabelle whispered. “But this spot with your arms around me is even better.”

Sebastian leaned back and took her face in his hands. “Do not die, do you hear me? I ca

“I’m fine.”

Sebastian kissed her as if the touch of his lips would make her safe. She felt the sweetness again, and desire. On their knees, his lips begged for acceptance and when she gave it to him, he deepened the kiss. It was everything she wanted. The kiss ended, or at least he moved his lips to her hair and the way he rocked as he cradled her against him was as exciting as it was soothing.

She touched the spot below his ear with her lips and whispered, “Have we missed the moonrise or do you think the moon will wait for us?” Isabelle hoped he would laugh, but when she raised her head to look at his face, she saw that she would have to settle for a smile.

Sebastian stood and took her hand. “Come this way. And do not go too close to the wall.”

“All right,” she said and let him lead the way. Isabelle looked up to see that the stars seemed only just above her reach. “This is one of the most perfect places on earth.”

Sebastian pressed her fingers to his lips and turned her to face the east where the moon had just popped up over the horizon. With his arms wrapped around her and her hands over his, they watched the moon make its graceful climb. It was lemony yellow and huge, though it grew smaller in size as it found its place in the heavens, surrounded by the stars that beckoned and twinkled.

What did the moon see in them? Isabelle wondered. Two people from completely opposite times and places, who found each other. Who, together, were going to end a curse with the miracle of love that was God’s gift to humankind.

Sebastian led her to a bench just like the ones that lined the walls in the castle’s courtyard. This one was more weathered, still comfortable enough if they sat very close together.

Sebastian played with her hair. “Your hair is so thick I ca

“Tell me about the convent, Isabelle.”

Tears filled her eyes as she squeezed his hand before pulling hers away. She closed her eyes but nodded, and Sebastian sat back, folding his arms, waiting with the patience of a man who had tested that virtue to its limits.

This was how trust began. Isabelle knew she would have to be the first to give. It was about more than the way a man was made. This man had forgotten how to trust a long time ago.

But he had actually asked, cared enough to want to know how she became who she was.

With her eyes closed, Isabelle pictured the huge convent, now much too big for its small community, with echoing halls and the sound of hymns at all hours. The memory still touched that part of her that longed to be closer to God.

“I went into the convent right after high school. I’m from Nebraska.” She glanced at him. “Do you know where Nebraska is?”

“Somewhere in the American midsection,” he suggested without much confidence.

“The Midwest, yes. My parents had a farm that was fifty miles from everyone else. So they sent me to a girls’ boarding school run by a very progressive order of nuns. Then my mom and dad died my second year of high school and I spent vacations for the next two years with relations who really did not want me.”

“I am so sorry, though I find it hard to imagine anyone not wanting you.” He kissed the top of her head. “That would never have happened here.”

“Yes, Cortez explained your way of caring for children,” Isabelle said, pretending not to understand his meaning. “Your community here is impressive, Sebastian, but it only works on a small scale with an enlightened man at the head.”

“Yes, I think the term is ‘despot.’ ”

She fisted her right hand and gently punched his left arm.

“You try so hard to make me see you as a dissipated, ruined man.” She straightened and raised one finger so he would know she was serious. “I tell you, Sebastian, the man I am getting to know is the one I saw on the beach today with the children. The one who took the blind girl up on his back and made her the leader of the group. The one who let himself be buried in sand.” She folded her hands in her lap and waited pointedly for him to answer.

“Yes, Mistress Nurse, I know you want to think well of me and I am sorry to have to explain to one as high-m inded as you that I play with the children so that when they grow up they will be loyal to me; they will stay and serve me as their parents have.”

“Oh, nonsense. You play with them because they remind you of what you miss the most.”

He laughed. “There is no discouraging you.”

“Oh, yes, there is. I have faced my share of disappointments in my life.”

“And convent life was one of them?”

“Yes.” She sighed and took his hand. “I was so very lucky to have a Mother Superior who understood me. When I was accused, more than once, of inappropriate behavior, she took me aside and counseled me.”

Isabelle rested her head against the wall and wondered what Mother would make of her now. “She knew that I was not flirting in a sexual way, but the priests were men after all. In the end she made me see that I did not want to be a nun so much as I wanted a sense of community, a place where I could belong, a place where I mattered to people as I had to my parents.”

Oh, it still hurt to talk about it and remember the day she had taken her one little suitcase and walked out of yet another home. A tear splashed onto her hand and Sebastian wiped it away with one of his fingers.

“We all want to belong, Isabelle.”

“I suppose so, and I was looking for it in the wrong place. We have something in common that way, Sebastian.”