Where Dreams Begin(109)

It almost surprised Zachary that they complied without argument, his mother weeping into a handkerchief as she closed the door. He locked the door behind them, secluding himself in the room with his wife, and went to the bed. Without hesitation he sat on the mattress and gathered Holly in his arms, disregarding her weak, protesting moan. “I'll follow you to the next life if I have to,” he whispered harshly in her ear. “You'll never be free of me. I'll chase you through heaven and hell and beyond.” He continued to whisper without stopping—threatening, coaxing, cursing—while his hands gripped her body close to his as if he could physically prevent the life from flowing out of her. “You stay with me, Holly,” he muttered savagely, his mouth sliding over her hot, wet face and neck. “Don't do this to me. You stay, damn you.” And finally when no more words would come from his aching throat, he sank down to the mattress with her, burying his face against her still br**sts.

It was indeed George, but his appearance was altered in some way from how it had been in life. He looked so very young, his skin and eyes and hair radiant, every aspect of him glowing with strength and health. “Holly, darling,” he said with a quiet laugh, seeming to enjoy her surprise. “You didn't realize I would come to meet you?”

In spite of her pleasure at seeing him, Holly held back, staring, fearing for some reason to touch him. “George, how can it be that we're together? I…” She considered the situation, her happiness ebbing as she realized that she might have lost the life she had always known until now. “Oh,” she said, her eyes stinging and aching suddenly. No tears came, but she was filled with desolation.

George tilted his head and regarded her with loving sympathy. “You're not ready for this, are you?”

“No,” she said in growing desperation. “George, have I no choice? I want to return at once.”

“To that prison of a body, and all the pain and struggle? Why not come with me instead? There are places even more beautiful than this.” He extended his hand invitingly. “Let me show them to you.”

She shook her head violently. “Oh, George, you could offer me a thousand paradises, but I could never…There is someone, a man, who needs me, and I need him—”

“Yes, I know about that.”

“You do?” She was amazed by the lack of accusation or recrimination in his face. “George, I must go back to him and Rose! Please don't blame me, you must understand that I didn't forget you, or stop caring for you, but, oh…how I've come to love him!”

“Yes, I understand.” He smiled, and to her relief, his hand fell back to his side. “I would never blame you for that, Holly.”

Although she had made no effort to step backward, it seemed that her anxiety had pulled her several yards away from him.

“You've found your soul mate,” he commented.

“Yes, I…” A wash of clear, bright knowledge swept over her, and she was relieved that he seemed to understand. “Yes, I have.”

“That's good,” he murmured. “It's good that you realize how fortunate you are. I had only one regret when I came here. I had done so little in life for other people. So much of what we concerned ourselves with was immaterial. There's only love, Holly…fill your life with it while you can.”

Her emotions tumbled over and over as she watched him walk away. “George,” she cried unsteadily, longing to ask him so many things.

He paused and looked back with a loving smile. “Tell Rose I'm watching over her.”

And then he was gone.

She closed her eyes and felt herself sinking, falling much too fast, back into the heat and darkness, where the air reverberated with savage, snarling words that caught around her like chains. The vehemence frightened her at first, until she understood its cause. She moved, her arms feeling wretchedly heavy, as if they had been encased in iron. After the wonderful floating lightness of her heavenly vision, it was difficult to accustom herself to this pain and illness once more. But she accepted it gladly, knowing that she had gained more time with the one she loved most, in this world or the next. She reached out and stilled the words on her husband's lips, and felt his mouth tremble against her fingers. “Hush,” she whispered, glad that his violent litany had quieted. It was so difficult to speak, but she concentrated fiercely on making herself understood. “Hush…'s all right now.”

She opened her eyes and stared into Zachary's pale, wild face. The black eyes were fathomless with astonished wonder, the lashes spiked with tears. Slowly she stroked his hard face, his cheek, watching as sanity and awareness crept into his expression.

“Holly,” he said, his voice shaking and utterly humble. “You…you'll stay with me?”

“Course I will.” She sighed and smiled, keeping her hand on his cheek, though the effort demanded all her strength. “Not going anywhere…dearest Zachary.”

Epilogue

“Higher, Mama, higher!”

Holly unrolled more string and the kite dove and soared in the cloud-ribboned sky, its green silk tail fluttering amid a strong breeze. Rose trotted beside her, shrieking her approval. Somehow their skirts and legs tangled and they fell together in a wildly giggling heap. Bounding up immediately, Rose took the roll of string and continued to run, her brown curls flying in shining banners behind her. Holly remained on the ground, resting on her back. Smiling, she relaxed on the crisp green lawn while the sun shone full on her face.