Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“Without this.” He grabbed her, his hand strong and sure, and dragged her toward him. His lips covered hers masterfully, dominatingly. The heat that sprang between them was the type that forged metals.

Hot.

Searing.

Molten.

Leona staggered under the forcefulness of his kiss. She had been rendered useless. Her body leaned into his for support. Flames licked up along their skin where they touched. There was no softness in the kiss, or in her response. Her kiss was just as harsh and demanding as his.

At the same time, their kiss spoke volumes. It was passionate, loving and most of all, it bound. Their souls reached out and intertwined with each other.

Trace dragged his lips off her. “I dream about you. You don’t love that Jackson, and after I get home and get my affairs in order, I will come for you. Then you won’t be just a dream.” The words were spoken with the certainty of a man who would never be satisfied with just a dream.

On legs that shook, Leona listened to his words. She couldn’t respond, for she had put her faith in him once and look how that had turned out for her. She had her own life now, and nothing would stand in her way.

Her own voice could hardly be lifted above a whisper. “We should get back.” She reached for his arm and guided him back down the path.

Trace walked in silence beside her. What he would give to see her face. To gaze upon her beauty, into her eyes, which she’d said were light brown. He would someday glimpse her face and be able to look into her eyes when he kissed her. For he would be kissing her again. Someday he would kiss her perfect lips once again.

Jackson waited for them outside. Impatiently, he paced back and forth. He appeared almost ready to come out looking for her. He had his horse waiting, and on the sides were big canvas pieces which Leona knew held her paintings.

She smiled at Jackson as his warm, yet concerned gaze fell on her. Leona walked Trace over to Jackson and stopped in front of him. Letting go of Trace’s arm, she stepped up to Jackson, her eyes upon him as she spoke.

“Take care of him, Jackson. Let me know when you’re ready.” She patted his arm and turned back to Trace. “Godspeed, Trace. I hope you find what you are looking for. Goodbye, Colonel Morgan.”

Leona reached up pressed her lips to his bearded cheek. “Don’t worry, Trace Morgan. She has forgiven you. Don’t be afraid of her memory anymore.” She blinked back tears as she entered her house without looking back. She stayed in there until she heard Jackson’s horse leave. “Goodbye, Trey,” she said to her empty house as she began to clean and pack.

* * * *

Trace and Jackson headed back to town. After some moments of silence Jackson asked the man who was riding his horse some questions. “Why did you tell her you were blind?”

How had he known?“What are you talking about? When the bandages were removed, I had no sight. That was not a lie.”

“Aye. I believe that, but now you can see something. I know. You were watching her. Can you see completely?”

Trace decided to tell the truth. “No. I can see shadows. It only happened this morning. I can see your shadow down there beside the horse, but I can’t tell what you look like.”

“Curious to know what type of man she favors?” Jackson goaded. “Fine, I’ll tell you. I am about five inches over six feet. I have dark black hair and blue-green eyes. Which for your information, she thinks are the same color as her beloved ocean. I am very handsome, which she also tells me over and over.”

Trace shook with rage. That was not what he’d wanted to hear. Not at all. Elle would be his. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. However, someday she would be his.

His mind went to what Elle had said to him before she’d left him alone with this man. “She has forgiven you. Don’t be afraid of her memory anymore.” How had she known what he had been afraid of? He had secrets that he had only shared with one person.

* * * *

The rest of the way into town passed in silence. Jackson dropped Trace off at the doctor’s office. As the door closed behind Colonel Morgan, Jackson headed for his store, where he unloaded the pictures he’d gotten from Leona.

His little girl had grown up. He was so proud of her, and her artwork was amazing. This most recent request from the Marquess of Heartstone to come to paint a portrait of his family was amazing. The man was one of the most influential and wealthy in all of England. It was an honor just to be acknowledged by him.

Jackson loved Leona with all his heart. She was the daughter that he’d never had, and he would do anything in his power to protect her from being hurt again. He was the only person on the island, other than her mother, who had seen the marks on her back. They still made him incensed.

He just wasn’t sure that Colonel Morgan man was right for her. It was time to get her out of his reach. England would be a good place for her to start a new life. She’d needed a change since her mother had died.

He headed for the bank to make sure their affairs were all in order.

* * * *

As he sat in the doctor’s office Trace told the doctor all he could remember. When he finished the doctor didn’t say much. His main response was, “You couldn’t have been in better hands. She is, next to her mother, the person I would want to have taking care of me. You know, I am not much for women healers, but there isn’t anyone I would trust more. If she thought it was best to keep you at her place, then that was the smartest thing. To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought that your sight would have come back at all with the extensive injuries you say that you had sustained.

“Her mom was like a shaman, a medicine woman. She taught me some things. Amazing woman, her mother. We all miss her.”

“Shaman. Medicine woman.” Leona’s mom had been that on the plantation. Stop it! Stop thinking of her. It is time to move on. Finally.

“Tell me what you see.”

The doctor preformed all sorts of tests. He put Trace up in a room and kept him there for another two weeks of observation.

Over those two weeks, Trace slowly regained the entirety of his vision. He got color back in his life. And his memories of being called a liar in his dreams had vanished. It was as if Elle’s parting words had given him the peace he had been seeking.

What he didn’t get back in his life was Elle. He never saw her. He didn’t go looking for her, but he’d hoped to run into her, to finally see her. One day he found himself passing Jackson’s shop and entered.

It was a large shop with brightly polished wood floors. There were large paintings on the wall that took his breath away. They were amazing.

They were wildlife paintings and scenic paintings. The animals looked like they were ready to jump off the canvas. The detail was so intricate. In his heart he knew who had done them.

There were people in the store looking at and placing orders for paintings. Jackson saw him and came over. The man had been conservative with his own personal description. He was a very good-looking man. One any woman would be happy with. A thought which made Trace grumble with jealousy as did the picture of Elle with him.

“Good to see you out and around. How are you doing?” Jackson was very professional toward him.

“I am well, thanks.”

“Looks like you got your sight back.”

“Yes. I leave tomorrow to go home and take care of some unfinished business. Will Elle be coming in today?” The question slipped out against his better judgment.

“No. She was in town yesterday.” Jackson didn’t embellish on that.

Trace didn’t know what to say. So he nodded his farewell and turned around and left the shop. He went back to the doctor’s office and packed his meager belongings. As he was packing, the doc came to the door and knocked.

“Come in.”

The doctor opened the door. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course. Please.” Trace waved him in. The doc took a chair and looked at Trace. He was holding a small package. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just wondering how you were doing. Any soreness in your eyes?”

“No. I feel great.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad you made a full recovery.”

“I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.” The doc leaned forward in his chair.

“What happened to Elle’s mom? How did she die?”

There was a surprised and confused look on Doc’s face. Like he wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Elle? Who’s Elle?”

“The woman who took care of me.”

The doctor shook his head. “Son, maybe you aren’t as well as you thought. Her mom died of some unknown disease. But her name isn’t Elle. Where did you get that idea?”

Now it was Trace’s turn to be confused. Her name isn’t Elle? “Of course her name is Elle. Why would she have lied?”

“Son, I don’t know about that. But I know two things. One, she left this for you.” Doc handed him the package. “Two, her name is not Elle. Her name is Leona. Good luck, son.” He left the room and shut the door behind him.

Trace fell to the bed as his legs gave out on him. Leona. She was his woman. It was the love of his life and she had to have known who he was the whole time and never told him.

He had to find her. No, he had to go home and deal with the traitors. But to leave her again… Could he do it?

He opened the package and what was inside brought tears to his eyes. It was a portrait of him in his dress uniform. She had captured him perfectly, except his eyes. They were happy, which his weren’t. They couldn’t be, for she wasn’t there with him.

He found two rings contained in the wrapped piece of cloth that he opened next. One was a very familiar academy ring and the other… The other was the one good thing he’d gotten from his father and had he had given to someone long ago, a slave girl who had stolen his heart. It really had been Leona who had helped him. Had kissed him. Had made him whole again.

Bringing the cloth up to his nose, he inhaled deeply. It smelled faintly of her flowery scent. Slipping the rings on his fingers, he rose quickly. He had to get to Jackson’s.

Trace ran up the street, ignoring the stares of those he barely managed to miss running into. Sliding to a halt in front of the store, he entered. Breathing hard, he walked up to the counter, hoping that Jackson was still there.

“Can I help you, sir?” A young woman stood on the other side of the counter. She was a cute little thing with a pleasant face and kind eyes. Not the woman he was looking for.

“Where is Jackson? I need to speak to him on an important matter.”

Regret slipped across her features. “I am sorry, sir. He’s gone.”

“When will he be in tomorrow?” Maybe he could talk to him before Trace’s ship left.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough, sir. He is gone. My pa and I are watching his store for him while he’s gone. He’s leaving the island, or rather, has left the island.”

Gone. He is gone?“Can you tell me where he went?”

“Sorry, sir. My pa would know, but he won’t be in until the day after tomorrow.”

Trace’s eyes closed in agony. Perhaps they just weren’t destined to be together. He reached for the link that he had with Elle, or rather Leona, and sought out her feelings. They were apprehensive and yet excited. Possibly she didn’t feel the same way he did. They were from two different worlds.

He wanted to be a part of the same world with her. “Do you know Leona? Do you know where I can find her?”

The girl’s eyes grew shuttered. She clearly thought carefully about her answer before it left her mouth. “Of course I know Leona. Everyone in town does. These are her paintings she sells here. She’s gone though. She left with Jackson.”

That answer hurt, causing misery so acute it became an actual physical pain. Trace stumbled to the counter and leaned on it for support. His body shook with pain and loss. Intense sickness and desolation swept over him as he gasped for breath.

“Sir, sir, are you all right?”

Blankly he looked at her. Not a word did he speak.

“Sir? Please, sir, answer me. Are you all right?”

“I will be. Thanks for your help.” Trace turned and slowly rose to his full height before walking out of the shop. For the second time in his life Trace felt lost. The one thing that meant more than anything to him was gone. Again. And again, he had been powerless to stop it from happening.

So, silently Colonel Morgan boarded on the ship that would take him home to his former life. His life and his son.