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Josh stared in astonishment. „It’s one of ours. The one that’s been missing for days.“
The plane made a perfect landing on the water and rolled up to the dock. As soon as the door opened, Josh strode forward.
Marty was the first to step out, followed by the pilot, Brady Stewart, with the rest of the crew spilling out behind him.
„Where’ve you been?“ Josh strode forward to meet them.
„Following you, buddy boy.“ Marty removed his sunglasses and pointed. „Didn’t you hear us applauding you? That was a hell of a fine landing.“
„Landing?“ Josh stared beyond the plane to see his own, bobbing in the water, tethered neatly to a buoy just offshore.
For the space of a heartbeat he couldn’t find his voice. When at last he spoke, his tone was incredulous. „Are you saying I just came down?“
Marty glanced at his watch. „Not five minutes ago.“
Josh looked at his own wrist and realized that his watch was now working perfectly. It read four-ten.
Grace stifled a cry and turned away, ru
Brady Stewart chuckled. „Your agent warned us you’d manage to find some gorgeous model even in the wilderness. How’d you smuggle her in here?“
„We’ll talk later.“ While the rest of the crew milled about, setting up camera equipment, Josh made a dash toward the cabin. When he stepped inside he saw the dog lying by the fire.
Grace was pacing the room. She looked up as he entered, and he saw the tears before she flew into his arms. Her words were muffled against his chest. „I was afraid I’d only imagined you as well.“
„Yeah. I had the same fear.“ He ran a hand over her hair, down her back, as though to reassure himself that she was indeed real.
„What happened to us, Josh? Was all of this a dream?“
He gave a quick shake of his head. „We’ll need some time to figure it all out. But this much I know. It was no dream. Barnaby is real. So are those letters and pictures of your mother.“ He took her mouth in a hot, fierce kiss. „And so is this.“
She returned his kiss with one of her own. On a sigh she stepped back. „But what do we do about it?“
He shrugged. „You heard your mother. Now we deal with our feelings in the real world.“
„But how can our love possibly survive? Our careers take us all over the world.“
He nodded. „That’s right. I have a contract to fulfill. A journey to take through the wilderness. And you have a photo essay to file.“ He gri
She was silent a moment, imagining the possibilities. Her breath came out in a long, deep sigh. „With all these responsibilities, where does that leave us?“
He could hear the director shouting orders, and the voices of the crew drawing closer, and knew that there was precious little time left.
„If you’re willing, why not meet back here when we both complete our assignments? We’ll plan our future.“
„Our future.“ At a sudden thought she glanced at the dog drowsing by the fire. „And Barnaby?“
„You heard Wyatt. He’ll make a boon companion on my journey. And when you and I are married, he’ll make a boon companion on our journey together.“
„Our journey together.“ She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. „Oh, Josh. I never thought I’d welcome those words. But it’s what I want.“
Josh could hear Marty shouting for him. He gave her a quick, hard kiss. „You’ll be here when Barnaby and I return? No matter what?“
„No matter what. Count on it.“
„I love you, Grace Marin. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.“
Against his mouth she whispered, „And I love you, too, Josh Cramer. Forever and always. Please take care of yourself. I’ll worry about you until we’re together again.“
„Don’t worry. We have angels watching out for us, remember?“
After one final kiss he whistled up the dog, and the two of them walked out the door.
Grace stood staring at the closed door, her head spi
It would be a challenge. The world would do its best to intrude on paradise. But Grace didn’t have a doubt in the world that she and Josh would be up to the task. After all, they had some pretty amazing ancestors showing them the way. Best of all, they had love. As her mother had made perfectly clear, true love could overcome any obstacle, even death.
Feeling as strong as any warrior woman, she picked up her camera. Time to complete her assignment. No more would she be just passing through this world. She intended to get down to the business of living her life to the fullest. With Josh’s love as the beacon, the journey ahead was bright with promise.
Mellow Lemon Yellow by Mary Kay Mccomas
This story is dedicated to the amazing ladies
of the Clud Club.
Better late than never, I always say.
And to my surgeons Curtis G. Tribble, MD,
and
James J. „Jay“ Gangemi, MD,
at the University of Virginia Medical Center
who wanted to be dastardly villains in one of
my books.
You’ll have to settle for being real-life heroes.
One
She didn’t see him enter the room or hear his steps as he walked up the aisle to the coffin. She simply glanced up and there he was, weeping silentf y as he gazed down at the pasty white face with the brightly rouged cheeks – her father in his final slumber.
She sat in the first row of padded folding chairs and tried to look away again, uncomfortable with public displays of raw emotion. But not staring at him proved to be impossible.
Charlotte had no flare for fashion of her own, and she didn’t like to judge… but the man was wearing sparkling, ruby-red sequined shoes – large ones – with squat heels and red bows across the toes just like… well, just like Dorothy’s in the Wizard of Oz. With white sport socks. They hugged his ankles and climbed halfway up his thick, well-shaped, hairy calves – which were bare from there to his knees. His muscled thighs looked laminated in a pair of silver-gray football pants that disappeared beneath a baggy black overcoat with white piping around the collar and the large kangaroo-like pouches that took the place of normal pockets.
How could she not stare?
But who was he? Surely, not a friend of her father’s and certainly no one she knew. Though after a quick second peek at his face he did look, somehow, almost vaguely familiar to her… sort of.
Aside from the clothes, he was a nice-looking man, clean shaven, his dark hair clipped short. He stood in partial profile to her, his head bent low, the strong angles of his face draped in sadness. He had the kind of square chin she always thought denoted a strong character – a hero’s chin, with a nice straight nose, and his full lips curved downward at the corners, making his sorrow seem as real to her as her own.
But who was he?
She hated situations like this. What if he spoke to her? She was better with numbers than names and there was never a right thing to say, on either end, when someone died. What had she been thinking?
The funeral director, Mr. Robins, was a client of her father’s – now officially her client, since she pla