Struck (standard:romance, 6920 words)
Author: J. Nicklaus	Added: Jan 22 2002	Views/Reads: 3460/2400	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Love can make you do things any sane person wouldn't.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Jes just grinned. “Not old, just a little out of shape.” 

So like Jes. Always the nice guy, thought Tom. “You know why I’m out
here, right?” 

“Of course. Likewise, you know I can’t begin to explain why I have to be
out here” 

Both men noticed they had to talk above the wind and the water slapping
against the side of the metal boat, so to the casual observer it would 
seem they were arguing, not that either one much cared what others 
thought at the moment. 

“Jes, you know Sandy and I love you to death, but we can’t understand
why you do this. This is crazy.” 

“Perhaps.” Jes stood quietly, letting the word sink in and the wind whip
around him. 

A flash of lightning silhouetted the pair against their surroundings,
the resulting clap of thunder seemed to shake everything in the area. 
They both waited for the sound to subside. 

Tom grasped Jes’ hand in a firm handshake. “For whatever reason, I can’t
stand here and tell you I think you’re a lunatic. I seem to understand. 
I know I’d do anything for Sandy, so I can’t say I blame you.” Tom 
paused, then pulled Jes in and hugged him. “You be careful out there, 
you understand?” 

“I’ll be as reckless as possible” he smugly responded. 

“Talk to you later” Tom flatly said, hoping Jes would return as he
always had. 

“Thanks Tom” 

“Anytime” 

Tom released his handshake and slowly stepped away. He had a sinking
feeling he’d never see his friend again. As he turned to head back to 
his cabin, he noticed a raven perched upon a small sign that read 
“Keepers Landing—5mi”. 

Jes watched Tom walk away, his windbreaker briskly flapping, then turned
his attention back to the boat. He carefully stepped inside then pulled 
the lamp out from under the seat and turned it on sitting it on the 
opposite bench, resourcefully held in place by magnets he’d glued to 
the bottom.  Leaning over he removed the tie-down anchoring the small 
craft to the dock, and pushed away with the oar. 

IV 

Sandy had only moved away from the bay window to turn on the floor lamp.
It cast a warm glow on what was sure to be a cool night. She was lost 
in thought, still watching out the window, when Tom entered. The 
slamming of the screen door startled her. He removed his windbreaker, 
hanging it on the coat rack, then sullenly walked over and hugged his 
wife. Minutes passed before a word was spoken. 

“I don’t have a good feeling this time” Sandy cautiously intoned. 

“Me either.” 

Sandy pointed at a bobbing point of light in the darkness. “He loves her
so much. God knows I’ve tried to talk him into moving on” she said. 
“I’ve always felt so lost and sad for him, yet he tenaciously hangs on. 
I have to respect his attitude. Love like that doesn’t come around 
often.” 

Tom pensively leaned against the back of his reading chair. “In all the
times I’ve talked to him he’s only ever referred to her as his 
‘raven-haired angel’. It’s weird how you can almost feel what he feels 
when he talks about her.” 

They watched in brooding silence as lightning danced in the distance and
thunder pealed through the canyon. 

“A cup of coffee sounds good. Want one?” Tom asked. 

“Sure, thanks.” 

Tom quietly sauntered off to the kitchen to start the coffee machine. A
bright flash of white light suddenly filled the entire cabin, followed 
immediately by a window-rattling thunderclap as air rushed in to fill 
the vacuum created by the bolt of electricity. Sandy squinted, but knew 
something was wrong right away. 

“Tom!” she yelled. He could hear the panic in her voice. It only took
two seconds for him to make it back to the living room. 

“What? What is it?” 

She had rushed to the window, as if getting closer would help her see
any better into the darkness. He noticed her hands were trembling. “The 
light....it’s gone!” she said, pointing a shaking finger towards the 
lake. “Do you see it?” 

Try as he might he couldn’t see it either no matter how hard he tried.
“No, I can’t see it.” 

“Tom, do something!” 

“Okay, okay. I’ll roll the truck down there and use the halogen lamp,
see if I can make anything out.” 

“Hurry, please!” Sandy was almost pleading. 

Three minutes later Tom had rolled the truck as close to the dock as he
could manage. He guessed Jess hadn't ventured too far from shore, so 
the beam should allow him to see something if it was out there. For 
several minutes he scanned the area back and forth, but to no avail. 
Dejectedly he returned to the cabin. 

She watched as he came through the screen door, manually closing it
quietly against the jamb. 

“Did you see anything?” 

His look said it all. He wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed. 

V 

The warmth of the morning sun stirred him from his sleepy stupor. The
previous night’s pre-emptive celebration placed Juan de Mata and his 
fellow squires in an open field just outside their small town in Spain. 


“Juan...JUAN!  Despierte!” Miguel shook his friend to get him up. Both
he and Juan had known each other since their school days, having 
attended one of the country’s finest. Both were very intelligent, even 
learning fluent English as their second language. They found it a handy 
tool to keep the other picadores and squires at arms length. Both also 
aspired to be great matadors. 

“Que Miguel?” Juan was not a morning person. The bright morning sun
stung his eyes even while squinting. 

“Today is it, Juan, la fiesta brava. Today one of us will be a matador!”
Juan thought Miguel to be far too dramatic for this early hour. 

“Callate, Miguel! No mas vino for you my friend. At least when I’m
around. It makes you talk too much.” 

Miguel seemed hurt, but it passed quickly. He wasn’t the only one to
imbibe a little too heavily last night. There was much to celebrate. 
Himself, Juan, and the others had earned the right to compete in what 
was essentially a test for the young squires, a public bullfight 
against one of the younger male bulls in the stables. The best fighter 
would be trained as a matadaor, a bull fighter, and gain the respect 
and admiration of many. It held special significance for Juan, who lost 
his father in the battles with the Moors. Bullfighting itself evolved 
out of those very battles as a form of entertainment and a show of 
bravery by the finest warriors.  This was Juan’s chance to prove 
himself, honor his family’s name, and win over the father of his 
raven-haired angel. Juan was easily the best squire, and had the 
biggest heart and desire, so he was the natural choice and favorite to 
be el primo, the victor of today’s competition. 

Juan stared at the hammered silver ring around his finger, turning it
slowly, watching the light play on the dimpled surface. He needed to 
see her before heading to la plaza de toros for the competition. 

“Ya me voy, Miguel” Juan stood and shook the drowsiness from his head. 

Miguel sat cradling his aching head in his hands. With a simple wave
Juan headed off to speak with his corazon. 

VI 

The Spanish sun and climate had been kind to Juan. He was tall, well
tanned, and well-liked by most all he came in contact with. One woman 
and one woman only had managed to capture his heart. He always referred 
to her as his muñeca or angelita-his doll, his angel. She had dark hair 
reminiscent of a soft summer night, and clear eyes that always stilled 
his heart. He met her at school. They shared much the same as he and 
Miguel, both intelligent, both spoke fluent English, both full of life. 
Only difference being she and Juan shared a deep bond, lo mismo 
alma-the same soul. Today she would be so very proud of him, and he 
would prove his worth to her father. He stopped a few steps shy of her 
front door, again toying with the ring on his finger. 

He never heard the door open.  He looked up to see her staring at him,
leaning against the rough wooden frame of the doorway. He couldn’t help 
but smile. 

Her silken voice settled his nervousness, as it always did. 

“Buenos Dias, amor” 

“Gracias, muñeca” Juan grinned like a little schoolboy. 

“I don’t have much time, angel. I need to return to la plaza, but I
wanted you to have something...something muy importante a mi.” 

She looked at him, puzzled, then gently stroked his cheek with her
feather touch. “What is it?” 

Juan knelt down and unsheathed a knife from its small leather scabbard
attached to his right boot, then proceeded to cut a long piece of 
leather strap from his left boot. Resheathing the knife, he then 
thoughtfully twisted the ring off his finger. She noticed immediately. 

“Juan! No, no, no, no!!! That was your fathers ring, I cannot take that
from you!” 

“Angel, I would like you to wear it for me, while I am in the ring con
el toro. Por favor. Es que yo quiero.” He continued stringing the 
leather through the strap, tying a small knot at the top. 

“Tiene mucho sentido, este aro” he whispered under his breath. Looking
up he could tell she didn’t quite hear him. 

“This ring means much to me, you know this.” She nodded. “The only thing
in this world that means more to me than this ring is you. Please wear 
it, so I know my whole world is in one place.... a proxima tu corazon” 

Her crystalline eyes began to water. “Aye, amorcito. Por supuesto, I
will wear it close to my heart” Leaning forward she warmly kissed his 
forehead and cupped his face in her palms. 

“You always make everything good” Juan throatedly whispered. “Dios mio,
angel. I love you so much. Today you will be so proud of me. I will win 
today, not for me, but for us. Yo promite.” 

“I know you will. Papa can’t wait to see.” 

He gently placed the loop over her head and lowered it onto her neck.
Now he felt better. 

She gently grasped the ring between her fingertips and caressed it, only
a smile and her kiss as a remembrance of the gift. 

“Andele mi amor. I will look for you there.” Taking her hand in his, he
softly kissed it. She watched him walk off, small clouds of dust 
trailing his every footstep. An odd sense of trepidation settled in as 
he disappeared over the horizon. She glanced down at the ring again as 
she closed the door. 

VII 

Miguel looked out from the pen and beheld a lively throng. The sound of
the crowd both excited and scared him, along with the rest of the 
squires. 

“Juan, mira....what a day!” Miguel’s eyes wide, wonder etched on his
face. 

“No te preocupes, Miguel. Relax. It’s the same thing we’ve done all
along, just more people watching” Juan mindlessly intoned. It did 
nothing to quell Miguel’s butterflies. They stood together and watched 
several other squires do their best to conquer the beasts trying to run 
them down. Their lack of grace was made up for by sheer tenacity. 
Sporadic shouts of “Ole!” filled the stadium. Miguel placed his hand on 
Juan’s shoulder. 

“You are next, compadre. Vaya con Dios.” Miguel could sense nothing but
stoic confidence from Juan. 

“I have waited so long for this, Miguel. I will not let her or my father
down...No puedo. I cannot.” 

“You will make us all proud, Juan. I’ll see you after your fight, my
friend.” 

They both listened as the crier announced Juan to the crowd... 

“Señoras y Señores. Juan De Mata!” 

Miguel slapped him on the back as he stepped out of the shadows of the
pen and into the bright light of the stadium. Suddenly he felt ill at 
ease. For the first time ever, Miguel was concerned for his friend. 

VIII 

Juan stepped confidently into the open plaza, his white shirt in stark
contrast to his black leather pants and boots, his cape draped across 
his shoulder. The roar of the crowd was fantastic. He slowly turned 
while acknowledging the crowd but focused on locating his compañera de 
alma, his soul mate. He spotted her under one of the many tarp covered 
areas along the rim wall of the stadium. From where he stood he could 
see her warm smile, and the ring prominently displayed against her fine 
linen blouse, her father seated next to her.  He blew a kiss to her, 
then bowed. He glanced back once more to ingrain her face in his memory 
at this moment and caught site of a black raven perched upon the 
support post next to her. Eso no es un buen señal, Juan thought, then 
tried to push the vision from his head and focus on the bull. 

He turned when he heard shouts from the pen. Cries of “El Viejo!!!”
could be heard clear across la stadia. The elder bull had accidentally 
been released instead of one of the younger ones. Portions of the crowd 
fell silent. No turning back now, the bull was free. Juan’s task was 
now set before him with eyes afire and pure animalistic fury brewing. 
Juan took his place and planted his feet, brandishing the cape as 
formal tradition required. The eyes of his world were upon him. Waving 
the black and red cape he summoned the beast. Coal black eyes bore down 
on him. Suddenly the bull was off at a gallop. 

Juan spun and brilliantly flung the cape around in a stilted athletic
ballet with the bull. The maddened animal trotted in an arc and headed 
back around. Juan again diligently pranced around him, spinning for 
effect. The crowd began to chant “Ole!” with each flourish and 
practiced step. His traditional Flamenco training was paying off. Juan 
again spun, narrowly missing the bull’s sharp horn tips as it angled 
its huge head to meet the red of the cape. He swung his arm straight as 
a board and in a high circle, the cape making a beautiful sweeping 
motion through the dusty air. Each dodge to the left or right only 
served to anger the beast more, and it was learning with each stroke. 

Juan quickly faced his angel, and waved the cape towards her. Her hands
never left her face, having been placed there since the bull was 
released. 

Once again, the bull was running full throttle at him. Juan crossed his
feet and spun, a move he had done and practiced a thousand times 
before. This time, his boot tip caught against the other one, and he 
stumbled. His arm naturally flew back in an attempt to balance himself, 
flaunting the red of the cape fully to the charging animal’s vision. 
Its nostrils flared as it closed in. 

It happened so quickly, Juan De Mata hardly knew what hit him. The bull
took full advantage of the unstable squire, impaling its right horn in 
his lower side to the hilt. Muscle and tissue cleanly separated then 
closed around the conical dagger. The animal flailed back and forth 
trying to remove the bloody mass from its head, finally dislodging it 
and flinging it against the hard, dirt floor of the arena. A woman’s 
anguished scream practically echoed in the mere second the rest of the 
crowd fell into stunned silence. 

Picadores and other squires rushed into the arena to subdue the raging
beast. All Juan could think of was her. He couldn’t see the damage 
done, but felt the right side of his shirt sticking warmly to his skin. 
He felt dizzy, nauseated. Breathing was becoming difficult. He heard 
voices all around him, muffled shouts, then hands on him, trying to 
move him off the stadium floor. Suddenly he was moving. 

Miguel and three other squires had hauled him off the floor and onto a
stretcher. Blood soaked through the cloth, dripping as they rushed to 
the pen. 

Juan weakly opened his eyes. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, he
was beginning to shiver from cold. Lack of breath made it hard, if not 
impossible, to utter any words. He felt the slightest touch against his 
hand, a damp towel pressed to his forehead. Looking up, the last face 
he would behold would be that of his muñeca. Her eyes flooded with 
tears, her voice trying to make things right, as it always had. As best 
he could, he gave her hand a squeeze, then hoarsely spoke “Yo te amo, 
angelita...siempre.”  As his eyes closed again, he could see the ring 
dangling from her neck. 

Her hands softly cupped his face, her lips brushed his cheek. A last
mournful but sweet kiss goodbye; light gave way to darkness. 

IX 

“Daniel, NO!” his mother firmly directed. “Don’t ask him. You’ll wake
him up. Now sit down and behave.” 

If he knew what ‘inquisitive’ meant, he surely would have asked his
mother if it was a crime. Five year olds have a difficult time with 
secrets and even more with big presents. Daniel put on his best hurt 
look and shuffled on the bench seat. These long train rides were 
boring. 

“I gave you the window seat, now settle down and watch out the window.” 
He was wearing her out. Rail travel in the late 1800’s may be slow and 
less than comfortable, but it sure beat the alternative of horseback. 
She glanced over at the child again to find him staring out the window 
and rewarded herself by closing her eyes. The rocking motion of the 
train had sedated her and she could use a quick nap. 

X 

The countryside rolled by like some slow-moving painting, green hills
undulated up and down breaking the flatness of the otherwise endless 
plains. Occasionally a herd of bison could be seen grazing in the 
distance. The staccato pattern clickety-clack of the train over the 
rails began to annoy Daniel much like flies at a picnic. The tall 
stranger had been asleep ever since he and his mother boarded back in 
Duncan, laying slightly draped over the big package next to him. Having 
no concept of time, Daniel figured it had been close to forever and 
that was more than enough time to sleep. He wanted to know what was in 
the box. A quick check to see what mom was up to....She’d nodded off 
too. Left to his devices he did what comes naturally to a 
five-year-old. 

“Mister” Daniel whispered, afraid his mother would awaken if he said it
too loud. 

The stranger didn’t stir. Daniel carefully poked his index finger just
above his knee. “Hey Mister!” he whispered a little louder. Daniel 
closely scrutinized the stranger’s long eyelashes for movement, and was 
aptly rewarded. 

Jaden’s brow furrowed as he squinted from the daylight streaming in the
window. Slowly the haze in his head began to clear, but he questioned 
the pain in his lower right side. After a couple moments thought he 
ascribed it to his sleep position for the last few hours. A tug on his 
coat sleeve drew his focus from awakening to a child’s voice. 

“What’s in the box, Mister?” 

Slowly he leaned upright, wincing at the discomfort in his side and
fixed his eyes on the imp at his knees. 

“Um....well, hello there little man. Who might you be?” 

The boy was happy to talk. He could do it at great length. “Daniel” he
factually responded. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Jaden. Nice to meet you Daniel.” Reaching out he took the tyke’s
untrained hand and gave it a light handshake. Daniel grinned from 
ear-to-ear. A decidedly female voice suddenly punctuated the 
pleasantries. 

“DANIEL! Didn’t I tell you not to wake him up?” Daniel’s eyes grew wide,
half from fear and half from being startled by the sudden outburst. 

“It’s okay ma’am”, Jaden cut in. “I needed to wake up anyways. Been
sleeping since Rockport.” 

“I’m terribly sorry. I had to stop him several times while you were
sleeping. His curiousity gets the best of him.” 

Jaden waved it off. “Really, it’s okay. No harm done.” He adjusted his
jacket and smoothed his hair. “How long have I been out?” he asked. 

“Not sure, but certainly since we boarded at Duncan.” 

Pulling the pocket watch out of his side pocket he stared at the time.
“That would be a good couple hours at least.” The picture tucked inside 
the front cover commanded his attention. The woman noticed his sudden 
focus on it. A minute passed, occupied only by the low hum of 
conversation in the car and the drone of the train over the tracks. She 
sat and watched him. So focused and intent, his body moving of its own 
accord with the rhythm of the rocking car. She made busy work of 
dusting off her dress and pretending to smooth wrinkles from it. 

“Who is she, Mister?” asked Daniel, breaking the silence between the
trio. 

“Daniel, that’s none of our business” she reprimanded. 

Jaden smiled kindly at the woman, then looked towards the boy. “She’s
somebody who is very special to me. Sort of like your mommy is to you. 
Don’t know what I’d do without her.” 

“Is she your mommy?” 

Jaden chuckled. “No Daniel, but she’s my world like your mommy is yours.
She takes care of me and makes me feel loved. She is my raven-haired 
angel.”  “You love your mommy, right?” 

“Yes. Except when she yells at me” Both adults smiled. 

“Well, I love my angel like you love your mommy.” 

The woman didn’t have to question his words. His actions, his eyes, the
warmth of his words conveyed the depth of his feelings. “Where is she 
now?” she asked. 

“She’s at home in Perry Center. I had to tie up some loose ends in
Rockport. I hate being that far away from her.” Jaden sighed. 

“May I see it?” She paused then immediately introduced herself. “I’m
terribly sorry. I’m Judith.” She extended her hand, which Jaden shook 
respectfully. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Judith. I’m Jaden, and yes you can see it.” He
gently handed the timepiece to her. 

Judith studied it thoughtfully and smiled “She’s very beautiful.” 

“Thank you. She certainly is. I try not to let an opportunity pass to
remind her.” He seemed to stare into the distance beyond her, lost in 
momentary reverie. “Have you ever had someone so much a part of you 
they were tangled in your dreams?” he posed, not that an answer was 
expected or needed. 

Judith could only smile, knowing exactly what he meant. 

“Easy to see why you are so taken with her. Without even knowing you I
can tell how much you love her. Take my advice, and never let her 
forget what she means to you.” 

Jaden took the watch back as she returned it. “Sounds like you speak
from unfortunate experience. Forgive me if I seem to pry, that’s not my 
intention.” 

Judith looked down almost resignedly. “Let’s just say I’d give almost
anything to have what you give to your lady.” 

Unsure of what to say, he let her words stand on their own. “Thank you
for your advice, ma’am. I assure you I shall certainly do my utmost to 
give back all she has given me.” Jaden paused, looking out the window. 
“I can’t wait to get back to her.” 

He watched as a raven flew by the car, then seemingly disappeared. An
unsettling feeling swept over him, recalling the route the train was 
taking cut through disputed Indian territory. He didn’t like the 
feeling. Not one bit. 

“That’s a very pretty bow on the box” Judith observed out loud. The bow
was almost as large as the box itself, mostly a warm valentine red, but 
marbled throughout were muted pink and daisy yellow veins. 

“I hope she likes it” Jaden stated. He stared at it again, something
he’d done a hundred times already. 

Judith smiled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” 

“What’s in the box?” Daniel asked yet again. He’d been patient. Besides,
he’d hoped it was a toy. 

Jaden leaned forward, supporting the weight of his torso on his knees.
“Now, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”  He could 
tell the child was less than pleased with the answer. Reaching into his 
inner coat pocket, his fingers found the small ring puzzle he had long 
ago figured out during his trip down to Rockport. 

“Tell you what, Daniel,” Jaden placed the puzzle in his open palm for
him to see. “When you figure this puzzle out, I’ll tell you what’s in 
the box.” “Go ahead, it’s yours to keep.” 

Daniel looked at his mother, his eyes asking for permission to take the
stranger’s gift. 

“Go on, take it” she told him. “It’s a toy for big boys” she added.
Daniel liked that even better. He couldn’t wait to be a big boy. His 
little fingers snapped it up as if it were candy, and he wasted no time 
setting to the task of figuring it out. 

A few more minutes passed, during which time the locomotive steamed over
a trestle bridge spanning a deep gully. Again, Jaden noticed a raven 
perched on one of the supports as the train passed along the opposite 
side of the bridge. It wasn’t hard to miss the several men in long 
trenchcoats as they walked briskly down the aisle brandishing rifle and 
revolver alike. He’d almost forgotten the one he carried, holstered 
close to his left side. Judith was suddenly concerned, and for good 
reason. 

“Jaden, what’s going on?” Fear crept into her voice. Maternal instinct
made her put her arm around Daniel. 

“I’m not sure yet” he replied, watching the procession. Looking out the
window he suddenly had his answer. A row of small dots on the horizon 
didn’t tell him everything, but gave him enough of a clue to surmise it 
wasn’t friendly. His once calm, fluid demeanor suddenly replaced by 
stern attention. Looking over his shoulder through the windows on the 
opposite side of the car he could see the train was coming to a long 
bend, and he couldn’t see behind the hills the tracks disappeared into. 
His eyebrows lowered in frustration. Out of habit, he stuck his hand in 
his side pocket, rubbing the pocket watch as a reminder of where he was 
heading. Judith’s voice again broke his thoughts up. 

“Jaden, what is it. I can see something is wrong on your face.” His
expression took on an ashen look as they neared the bend, and he could 
see the figures moving towards the train now. 

“Whatever you do, KEEP DOWN!” he mandated. “You and Daniel will be fine,
but DO NOT get up. Is that clear?” His voice flatly direct, and clearly 
a negative response wasn’t an option. 

“Yes, yes, of course” she stammered. “Please tell me what’s going on” He
checked out the window again, then looked back at her. 

“Sioux.” 

One word conveyed all she needed to know. He reassuringly placed his
hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her towards the bench seat. 
“Daniel, you stay with your mommy. Everything will be alright.” Daniel 
spoke not a word. The fear in the child’s eyes said it all. He nodded 
towards Jaden. The first arrow hit the front of the car with a 
resounding thud. 

“Stay down!” he reminded them. Eyeing the rear door of the car, he
strode towards it, awash in the ever-growing cacophony of war cries and 
gunfire. 

Reaching the rear he braced his back against the wall, and looked down
the length of the car. He estimated a good hundred or so that he could 
make out clearly in the open area. No way to tell what number lay 
amongst the hidden confines of the hills on the other side. Closing his 
eyes, he softly muttered “I love you” in the hope somehow she’d hear 
it. Standing up, he yanked the revolver out of the holster and cocked 
it. A last look down the aisle confirmed Judith and Daniel were still 
crouched down. He stepped to the rear door and flung it open. 

Jaden caught the warrior by surprise when he stepped through the frame
of the door. He’d been riding alongside the train and grabbed the 
railing on the landing where passengers stepped up to board the train. 
Self-defense took over leaving him no time to second-guess his actions. 
A solid squeeze on the trigger and the Sioux warrior fell against the 
side, still grasping the railing. Jaden planted the heel of his boot 
against the warrior’s fingers with a vicious kick. The fighter 
disappeared, rolling as he fell directly under the next car cleanly 
removing the Sioux’s upper torso from the rest of the body. 

Several more audible thuds and the sound of shattering glass snapped him
back to reality. Frightened passengers huddled where they could inside 
the cars. An arrow whipped by his head, making his heart pound against 
his chest. Even as the train traveled at full bore, the onslaught of 
Sioux seemed endless. He could hear fighting above as well. A contorted 
body lay on the ground as the train sped by, arrow lodged in its 
throat. 

Jaden stood up and turned to step to the landing on the next car. He
never had time to raise his gun. 

From out of the hills behind the train a warrior appeared. As Jaden
caught his hateful gaze, he let the arrow fly. Jaden could hear the 
sickening twang of the bow string. The arrow penetrated before he could 
think of how to react, slicing neatly through his lung and severing the 
aorta. The warrior, gone as quickly as he appeared. 

Jaden dropped to his knees causing a torrent of blood to run down his
front and begin to pool underneath him. Consciously aware he had only 
moments to live, he feebly groped in his side pocket and retrieved the 
pocket watch, unlatching it with a press of his weakening thumb. The 
last image he’d see would be that of his raven-haired angel. Eyes 
watering, breathing choked off, consciousness fading, Jaden consigned 
his heart to faith that one day he would again set eyes upon the woman 
who had lived tangled in his dreams. 

XI 

Rationality, reason, consciousness, emotional turmoil; all of them
battled for supremacy inside the small confines of his skull. The heavy 
throbbing was the first thing to remind him he was still alive. The 
increasing pressure on his chest confirmed it. Simply breathing was a 
new exercise in pain. A familiar scent filled his nostrils, but he 
couldn’t place it. That scent...what is that scent? His mind reached 
into every nook and cranny to remember. His whole body was slowly 
coming out of a numb sensory overload. 

Sandy’s perfume! That was it! She’d worn the same scent ever since Jes
knew her. Ocean Dreams, he recalled, having given it to her for her 
birthday. He risked opening his eyes, unsure what unpleasantness may 
await him visually. 

Slowly, cautiously, he willed his eyelids apart. They opened and closed
by degrees, allowing the pupils to adjust naturally. He was in a 
hospital bed, IV dangling from his arm, chest wrapped with support 
bandages. He heard someone whisper “He’s awake.” 

Jes turned his head carefully, groaning as the huge bump on the back of
his head slid against the pillow. Tom and Sandy were sitting at his 
bedside. 

“Hey there” Sandy said gently. “I’d ask how you feel, but it’s pretty
obvious” Jes managed a fractured grin. 

“You gave us quite a scare, Jes. If it wasn’t for Sandy you might not be
here” Tom offered. His pained quizzical expression told them he had no 
idea what happened. Tom continued. 

“I went out after the blast and searched for you. I couldn’t see a thing
at the time. Sandy just knew you were out there somewhere. She wouldn’t 
give up on you. We called the sheriff and he came over with his search 
lamps too. By the time he got to the lake the storm had calmed down 
enough for us to see things we couldn’t before.” 

“The blast?” Jes croaked out. 

“Yeah. Initially we thought you’d been struck by lightning, your lamp
light disappeared from the lake. Turned out you’d been floating near 
the diving platform in the lake. Lightning hit that and it pretty much 
blew apart. You were hit in the chest by a good size chunk of wood, 
then fell back and slammed the back of your head against the side of 
the boat. We can’t figure out why, but you didn’t capsize. Another 
plank knocked the lamp clean off the bench, which is why we couldn’t 
see you. You got damned lucky, my friend. That nasty knot on the back 
of your head—the doctors were hoping there was no brain swelling, and 
turns out there isn’t, it just knocked you unconscious. You’re sporting 
four broken ribs though.” 

“That would explain why it hurts to breathe and the four alarm headache”
Jes added. 

Sandy carefully smoothed his mussed hair back, trying to reassure him
things would be fine. Jes tried to thank her with his eyes, mostly 
because he just didn’t feel like smiling. “We’re going to leave for a 
bit, but we’ll be back later to check in on you, okay?” 

Jes nodded as best he could, given the condition of his cranium. 

“Talk to you later” Tom said, patting his hand. “Rest up.” 

The couple left the room with a gentle wave goodbye. Once again, he was
alone. Jes could feel his throat tighten. He’d been so close, so very 
close. She was right there, each time, within my grasp. A dying rose 
wrapped around his heart, thorns piercing its weary skin. 

Against the window came a slight but quick fluttering sound. Gently he
turned just enough to look. The raven had set upon the sill, its black, 
unforgiving presence reaching through the window. I have failed again, 
he thought. She had been his angel in the cruelest of worlds. 

Instinctively his eyes shut tight, tears welling, finding passage
through his eyelashes. To be so close, yet eluded again. His heart 
wouldn’t give up, but it hurt nonetheless. The thorny stem tightened. 
Through his private anguish he heard someone walk into the room. He 
dared not open his eyes, besides, what was the point? Only to verify 
she wasn’t next to him again? Enough time for that later. 

A gentle touch on his arm seemed to come from nowhere. Must be checking
the IV, he figured. Then feather-soft fingertip brushes along his 
hairline and temple. He felt soothed, calmed. 

“I thought I’d lost you again” said a soft, warm voice, cotton-candy
soft against his ear. He knew that voice. “Welcome back” it said again. 
It was impossible. Logic battled against his desire to believe. Every 
sense suddenly heightened, he could feel warmth of tears on his cheeks. 
He swallowed hard, knowing he had no choice but to look. 

Several lifetimes seemed pointed to this one action. A mixture of
elation and trepidation sat firmly on his chest, crushing his soul 
against his heart. Mere curiosity became the catalyst to look, as damp 
eyelashes gave air to moist eyes. 

His raven-haired angel sat before him, poised on the edge of the bed,
still stroking his forehead. Words eluded him, emotions couldn’t. All 
the love he’d harbored for her issued forth though rainbow-hued eyes, 
tears rolling over a quivering but irrefutable smile. All he could 
manage was a choked whisper. 

“Hi angel.” 

She smiled back, then leaned over and carefully left a silken kiss on
his lips. Every feature exactly as he had known them to be. Her soft 
face, flowing dark hair, able to see his entire world in her clear, 
smiling eyes. Perpetual beauty touched every part of him. Jes didn’t 
miss the small silver ring around her neck either, leather strap 
intact. 

“It is you. You were there, at la plaza,” his words falling rhythmically
with each hushed syllable. 

“Yes, and Perry Center, and the other times too. I knew, just as you
did, we would meet for good at some point in time. I knew you wouldn’t 
give up, because I knew I wouldn’t either.” 

Jes carefully motioned at the ring with his free hand. “How...” he began
to ask. She again lovingly grasped it between her fingertips, and held 
it up to the light. “I’ve never questioned its history, just been 
grateful it was given to me.”  His next question never made it to his 
lips. A sudden noise at the window diverted their attention. Both 
glanced over at the same time. 

Jes’ heart sank. For a split second he fully expected to see the raven
again. Instead, a pair of white doves perched on the sill, one pressed 
contentedly against the other. He could feel a huge weight lift from 
his soul. He’d beaten his demon. 

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze then turned back to stare into his
eyes. Her gaze was so familiar, so right. Nothing mattered anymore. 

“You’re not going anywhere now” she stated matter-of-factly. 

“Only place I’m going is wherever you are” he responded. “I love you,
angel. I always have, it’s never left this heart, always resided in 
this soul.” 

“Would I have gone through all this if I didn’t feel the same?” 

“I would hope not” he sighed. 

She cupped his face in her palms and sweetly kissed him. “I love you.
I’m here now, for good.” 

Finally his soul was at peace. He had reached his destination. Now, he
could live. 

“When you’re all healed, I know of this little place we can go” she
stated. 

“Is it far?” 

“Not really. It’s a beautiful area. A little canyon, hidden away from
prying eyes, called Keepers Landing.” 

Jes smiled profoundly, struck by the feeling he’d been there before 

The End 

© October 2001 J. Nicklaus 


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