My uncle and my father had laid their claim to this land;
cultivated the soil
built the small, white cabin in their youth
added, over time, framed photographs
captured candid moments of who we were;
glimpses of who we’d become…
I drove the double tracked road, braking intermittently down the hill-
trying to avoid the gaps in the graveled road. I took comfort in the familiarity of the area;
the sauna resting on the right hand side of the cabin, the aged well pump in front of the entrance…
It had been quite sometime since I had been home.
Peaceful land… a beautiful way to know slumber when the night would surely close.
Glancing over to her I felt elation at her wonder of the heritage.
She spoke of loving the woods; it having been a lifelong refuge during troubled times
And obviously these times were difficult…
I pulled up to the cabin, placed the vehicle in park and leaned over, taking her hand into mine.
She smiled weakly…must’ve known why I brought her here.
“We should talk.”
I lead her over to the over stuffed couch, motioning for her to sit down,
clearing my throat I continued “I brought you here to decide…either way I want you to know that I believe that I could come to love you, in time.”
She searched his eyes for sincerity, confused herself by the self destructive behavior she’d been exhibiting lately. She had prayed for this man to come for her.
(Earlier that day)
In a country church, she had entered, sobbing.
If you had stopped and asked why, she held no singular reason.
Fact was, her life had been shattered by a sequence of on foreseen events- none of which she could emotionally handle.
But she knew this.
That’s why she called out to God for him.
She had been given a name
this she promptly discarded
to ease the sorrow;
release the darkness
Declan had been in a prison of his own.
His wife lie dead, cold in the ground now for nearly 7 years.
Successful, attractive and wealthy, it meant nothing without someone to share it with…His brother now fallen, Declan sought out prayer from the group of mourners; walking into the chapel for a moment of solitude.
The funeral was breaking into factions of relatives and friends discussing his brothers life, not something he desired to engage in.
Much to painful.
He heard the guttural sounds of sorrow reverberating off of the chapel walls when he initially entered. To be thoughtful he’d of left her to the engulfing pain, but Declan was a man’s man. He could no sooner leave the stranger to be crushed by the dark emotions than remove himself from prayer.
He’d see to her; though not before kneeling and succumbing to his own calamity.
Surely God would either grant him a reprieve or afford him death.
She never felt his presence until the mans strong hand rest upon her left shoulder.
Declan stood behind her and inquired firmly what it was that troubled her so?
She kept her head down, drenching her beige skirt with even more tears. All that seemed to escape her lips were the words “I’m tired.”
He was no ones fool.
Never had been.
Astute was an attribute that he had vested early on…
When the voice came to him discussing Prevenient Grace and all that would follow, he had heard; the intent was clear.
Yet to be there; the moment it actually reached fruition? While he understood that it would quantify his actions, would this stranger afford him the latitude?
Declan had bowed his head. Prayed mightily.
Received a calling that he never expected.
Three rows over was the woman who was to be his wife.
God informed him that she had prayed for his arrival as well; though she was close to deaths escape.
He had but two choices, save the woman and keep her for himself or ease her pain and bury her.
Declan didn’t want to act upon the voice.
It could be the grief… correct?
He’d been drinking, some.
In any case he wasn’t going to take the chance of crossing God’s will.
Declan finished praying and meandered his way to the pew where she sat hunched over and placed his hand on her shoulder.
He spoke quietly, she couldn’t really answer coherently but he understood that pain had taken over her sensibilities.
Declan removed his black suit coat, placed it over her shoulders and spirited out of the church.
She never questioned him as he opened his vehicles passenger door and ushered her in.
They drove for hours, he handed her tissue…
Declan stoked the old wood burning stove causing the flames to dance, warming the pair.
She may have been terrified about being alone with him or by his words of conviction but still she sat there stoically.
Would’ve made a great poker player he thought.
Finally she asked “What happens now?”
“You decide. Do you believe me?”
She nodded in affirmation. What choice did she have?
“We’ll marry after a day or two of remaining here. I’d like to share a bed with you tonight- if you’re ready.”
Certainly she was in no condition to argue with the muscular, blond haired, blue eyed man…yet she didn’t want to lie with him with no love between them either.
Obviously he felt no trepidation; exactly the opposite. This was his life beginning anew-
Why vacillate?
“Honey…it’s getting late. Time enough has passed for you to cry tears of sorrow.”
“I may never recover.”
“Understood, but better to die loved than to fly with the angels with no light beneath your wings.”
“Somehow I doubt that I’d be accepted.”
“I’ve accepted you as is… I ask nothing of you.”
She felt bewilderment. Who was this mysterious stranger to bring her to a remote cabin, tell her that God’s will was being enacted and that trust required was a necessity in order to fulfill Prevenient Grace?
Declan sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to enter the bedroom.
Many women had paraded themselves before him; he was certainly no stranger to the conquest, the passion. This was very different.
He had to procure this woman in every sense of the word.
With all of his skill he was suddenly left fearful of what would be appropriate and what would be deemed as going too far…
She walked in the room, allowing her hair to flow freely, her face recently washed gently with warm water.
Declan thought that her beauty derived from the simplicity that he somehow sensed was her.
An amusing oxymoron to realize that circumstantially they were in a complex situation…he attempted some easement of her sorrow by being humorous. She didn’t take to it well.
Declan grasped both of her hands in his, even standing she only reached his chest in height.
“I’m not sure Declan…what do you want from me?”
“I think the real question here is what do you want? I can’t rescue you if you don’t allow me too.”
“You don’t even know my name.”
His blue eyes became welled up with tears. He honestly didn’t care what her name was. Nothing was more important than making her his wife, loving her. Grace didn’t come along often. At his age he was keenly aware of missed opportunities.
This, he thought, would not be one of them.
His heart had fallen into a despair that he didn’t believe could find its way back to redemption…
“Tell me.”
“Ever.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s Ever. My parents were hippies, frankly I’m surprised that I don’t have a brother named for.”
He grinned broadly. He supposed that she was right.
“Ah, like owning a cat named Mandu?”
“Funny.” She couldn’t help but smile. He seemed nice enough… She stared into his eyes, something there held recognition for her…couldn’t place her memory to the feeling…his hands felt strong, he wreaked of security.
“Who are you Declan?”
His hands began nervously massaging hers…
“I own a business. I’ve done well over the years. My wife died years ago, my children are adults.”
“That isn’t what I asked you.”
“No, I suppose not. I’m to be your father, your husband. (he paused, deciding what to say because somehow he knew that this was going to become a stalemate if he didn’t pull her into the bed) Do you need me to make love to you or punish you?”
“Whaat?”
“You heard me. We’re adults. Your heart is telling you that I’ve been honest. I’m going to stay with you and that indeed, I will love you Ever.”
The name rolled off his tongue so naturally that it even surprised him as he spoke it aloud. Hearing his own words he could see the lunacy of the situation; the raw truth of a prayer being answered.
Ever blushed to crimson, embarrassed by the want that she could feel creeping up upon her body. He was incredibly attractive to her…
Could this really last?
Could Declan erase the immense pain that had torn her apart?
She whispered her reply “Both.”
Declan released her hands and motioned for her to lie across his lap.
She didn’t want to do it, yet felt compelled. Guilt forced her compliance, Ever thought by placing herself in harms way, albeit within the safety of the mans unspoken promise of eternal love that she’d be able to rid her psyche of regret/guilt.
Followed by making love Ever was sure to place them both onto the path of recovery.
A stranger will do that; provide easement where as a close friend or lover only stands as a reminder of past mistakes.
Ever laid across his lap. Suddenly she felt insecure with the realization of her skirts short length…
Declan had done this before, for pleasure, never for emotional release.
His strokes were rough, strong and sure.
She whimpered but didn’t make any attempt to stop his actions.
Finally, when he ceased and pulled her back upright, Ever let the relief effect her demeanor.
She openly went into his arms and began tugging at the remainder of his clothing.
Declan was pleased with her aggressiveness.
This would serve him as they progressed…
He made love to her, slowly, utilizing the skill he had acquired over the years. Ever seemingly melted into his strong embrace, finding the sexing much to her liking…the proper blend of dominance and seduction.
They awoke the next morning to the realization that they had crossed a line neither could come back from.
“Are you really going to marry me?”
“Yes Ever. We have a lot to do.”
“Tell me there’s no ark involved.”
Declan sneered “This is nothing to jest about. I was thinking more in the lines of driving into town and obtaining a marriage license.”
So it was really happening she thought.
Marrying a stranger that she felt knew her better than she knew herself.
He couldn’t believe his luck.
Prevenient Grace had rescued him from a meaningless life…
When asked, years later, why he had taken on such an endeavor
his reply was simple;
though their lives were anything but
“She’s every moment…there was a script written, I’d suppose many years ago. We merely followed it.”
The inevitable protest would come
Why would you marry someone that you knew nothing about?
How could you have known?
He knew, had always known.
Cloaking himself early on with the façade of a man tried and true
the heart of a boy had remained, though had been quietly left behind-until her sudden arrival
In this Declan had found redemption;
love lost had seeped seamlessly back into his life and much to his surprise had filled the void that for years had tortured his soul.
Ever had uttered not a word.
She allowed the force of nature that was him to cast her afloat.
Why trouble herself to explain what she held no answers for?
There were times when she’d question…storm through their home charging him with daily annoyances
wishing he’d just let her go
cease holding up to a higher standard
But what she wanted
what she needed
were one and the same
he had become every moment to her
Yearly Declan took her back to his place of youth;
family
give memory to their life of resolve;
to never take for granted this that they recognized as Prevenient Grace
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
