“This l-love, without knowing the how of us being together.”
“When I got back to the Parish, I was waiting for you. To read my note. To contact me. I hoped beyond hope you felt the same way about me as I did about you. Then the days began to drag. I couldn’t just sit idle. So I started preparing. Making plans should you ever come to me.”
A tiny glimmer of hope sparks in my heart. “What kind of plans?”
“After I wrote the note to you that day, I went to Bronson. I told him that if you ever showed interest, I’d like to find my place back at the Village. And name my replacement in the Parish.”
“What?”
“I want Carter here. Leading my people. Sasha’s parents live here and they aren’t well enough to move to the States. If she were to have children, their grandparents would barely know them.”
“I thought they wanted to move to the Hamlet.”
“What they want is to have a family. And to be in a community to support their family and their values. When I proposed the idea, Bronson agreed with me that Carter’s character strengths were a perfect fit for this community. We flew him and Sasha here to see what they thought. And they love this place. Sasha was overwhelmed with happiness at the thought of being near her family.”
“And John? Was he in on this?”
“Sasha was given permission to tell Mary there was a chance her and Carter would be moving to the Parish. You know Sasha is like a daughter to Mary. Mary wasn’t having Sasha leaving without her. She booked the jet the next day and brought John down to visit. She loves it here, too.”
“So everyone has this worked out behind my back?”
“Pretty much. We were all just waiting to see when and if you would reach out to me.”
“But isn’t John next in line? Wasn’t he upset when you chose Carter over him?”
“Carter has the heart to lead my people. He has a warmth and a softness that will meld easily with their nature. He will be well liked. John will be a strong number two for him, balancing out his weaknesses. And John was quite happy to remain in a second-tier position. John knows he’s too hotheaded at times to be a good number one.”
“Will they have to be tattooed? Carter—I can imagine him with one. Sasha would probably go crazy for it… but John? He’s so straight-edged, I can’t imagine it.”
“It will be their choice but they would do well to assimilate to the culture. With all that working out Carter does, he’d look excellent in ink. And John’s been surfing on his visits out here. Who knows? Maybe once he has a tan, he’ll take the plunge.”
I laugh at the idea of uptight John, tanned and surfing, his blond hair tousled from the salty water. But with Carter and John here at the Parish, where does that leave Rockland? “What would you do in the Village? Where would you fit into the Brotherhood now? I know you love your work and you excel at it. I can’t imagine you going from leader to second in command.”
“I’d be fine pushing a broom around that place if I’m with you.”
I smile. But his joke doesn’t ease my concern. “I don’t want you to sacrifice more than you already have for me. I’m sorry I can’t leave the Village; I feel so selfish—”
His finger presses my lips, stopping my words. “I know, Tess. I know you can never leave Brett behind. And I love you for that.”
Tears prick my eyes. How does he understand me so well? I swallow back my emotions. Wipe my eyes. Think of small talk to break the heaviness. “Will you be making any changes as second in command?”
“Yes, a few, with Bronson’s blessing, of course. There will be curtains in every household, that’s for damn sure. And a couple of the men might have to tighten up on the strictness front. A few of you Beauties have been spoiled way too long.”
I can tell by the glint in his eyes he’s teasing about the last part.
I say, “I think some change could be good.”
He says, “You’ll have a fresh start.”
I grab his hands. Hold them in mine. “We will have a fresh start. Together.”
“Yes.” He holds my gaze a moment longer. Then his eyes lower. His hand going into the breast pocket of his shirt. He pulls something out, dangling it before me.
The light hits the black stones, glimmering as it twirls from the chain.
His sword.
He looks at me and suddenly his face has a boyish quality to it—as if he’s going to ask me to go steady. He looks almost… shy. His voice is quiet as he asks, “May I?”