Iris Johansen - Everlasting

Yes, everything had been said and what was left didn't need words. Kira, too, refused to say good-bye. She kept her voice steady despite its huskiness. “Joy, Marna.”

She watched Marna climb up onto the high seat of the wagon. The tears were brimming as she stepped back beside Zack, who was shaking hands with Paulo.

Paulo turned and smiled down at her. “Don't look so tragic, little Kira. We can't really be parted. Marna has taught you that.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Joy, Kira.”

She threw her arms around him and hugged him with all her strength. “Take care, Paulo.”

“Always,” he said lightly as he climbed onto the wagon seat and picked up the reins. He flicked the reins and the horses began to move forward. They had gone only twenty yards or so when Paulo's head suddenly swiveled and he shouted back at them. “Bighorn sheep? You are sure, Zack?”

Zack grinned. “I'm sure, Paulo.”

A wide smile lit Paulo's bearded face and his booming laugh rang out. Then he turned back once again to face the distant road. He slapped the reins and the wagon rolled forward.

“What was that about?” Kira asked.

“I was telling Paulo about some land I've leased from the government in Montana and Idaho.” Zack's gaze was on the fast-disappearing wagon. “A wild country tract about the size of Tamrovia, overflowing with mountains and streams and game. I invited Paulo, Marna, and the tribe to come over for a year or so and see how they like it.”

Kira held her breath. “And?”

“He said he'd think about it. Kira, it's only a possibility. There aren't any real certainties in this world, only possibilities. You can't make choices for the people you love, but you can sometimes expand those choices and offer them alternatives.”

Kira's face was illuminated with excitement.

“They'll come. I know they'll come. Oh, Zack, I was so worried about them.”

“There's no guarantee that if they do come, they'll stay. This is their homeland and they may become restless and want to return to it,” Zack said. “You have to face facts, Kira.”

“But by that time maybe the war will be over and they'll at least be safe.” Kira slipped into his arms and burrowed her head in his chest. “But can you get the whole tribe out of Tamrovia?”

“It would take a major airlift. I guess I'd better tell Dubliss to stay put in Switzerland for a while,” Zack said, his voice threaded with humor. “I don't think we could get them to leave either their wagons or their horses behind. But the airlift is a definite possibility. I got Paulo to chart their new location on my map, and I told him he could send word through Sandor anytime he felt the need to take a little hunting trip.”

“I want to go to Montana as soon as we get back,” Kira said eagerly. “I'll take hundreds of pictures of mountains and streams and bighorn sheep and send them to Paulo and Marna.” She glanced up, her eyes twinkling. “A letter bombardment seemed to work pretty well for Marna with you. Now we'll just see how she likes it.”

Zack nodded. “A masterly plan, love. We'll deluge them with choices and hope they'll make the one that will suit us best.”

“Is that an Indian philosophy?” Kira grinned.

“No, the Indian part of me is looking askance at such contrivance.” Zack shrugged. “But what can you expect from someone who is neither fish nor fowl?”

She went still. “I know what I expect,” she said slowly. “I expect what you always give me: Honestly, strength, intelligence, patience, affection, loyalty… Shall I go on?”

He shook his head. “Much as I appreciate the accolades you're heaping on me, I think we'd better dispense with them for the moment. We've been here too long already. We'd better head for the helicopter.”

“A few more minutes won't hurt.” She leaned back in his arms to look up at him. “I think there are a few things we should get straight. When I first saw you I thought you were the strongest, most confident man I'd ever laid eyes on. I still think that, but I believe you have one major hang-up, Zack.”

His eyes studied her face. “And what is that?”

“The same one that's been the bane of my existence all these years. My damn title.” She lifted her hand to stop him as he began to speak. “No, I know you don't have any desire to gain status through it, but it's a bugaboo just the same. I think my title intimidates you.”

“Intimidates?”

“Remember when you told me about discounting the possibility that a princess and a half-breed could ever really get together, when Marna first told you about the mondava? You didn't even question that reaction. And why didn't you go after me when you decided you wanted me, instead of waiting for Marna to serve me up to you on a silver platter?” She drew a deep breath. “And why haven't you asked me to marry you? I know you love me. You were angry when you thought I wasn't going through with the mondava, but you never even suggested that we be linked together in a ceremony joining us in the eyes of the world. In some ways, I think you never recovered from those experiences that scarred you as a child.” She paused deliberately. “You're a half-breed, and a bastard, and heaven only knows who some of your antecedents were, Zack Damon. You're also the finest, most wonderful man I've ever met. So who the hell cares?”

“There's a possibility you may be right about my hang-up. I guess I never thought about it. I just reacted.” Zack was looking at her with eyes glowing with intensity. “Who the hell cares?” he echoed thickly. “Will you marry me, Kira?”

“You bet I will.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him ecstatically. “Oh, Zack, I do love you so much. I was afraid you might be going to turn noble on me and want to leave me free or something. There's been so much talk of that lately.” She kissed him. “Now listen carefully. I do not want to be free. I want to belong to you and to have you belong to me. I know that you would never try to stifle me, just as I would never try to stifle you.” Her gaze was fixed earnestly on his face. “But I want the marriage tie between us. I believe in it. Call it the mondava or just plain love. It exists, Zack, and it will exist for the rest of our lives.”

“I know.” He leaned forward to kiss her gently. “And even longer than the rest of our lives. The everlasting bonding. We're very lucky to have found it, and we'd be damned fools to risk losing it.” He kissed her again with a power and passion that was a shining promise. Then he lifted his head and his voice was a little unsteady. “I love you, Kira. I'll love you forever.”

The moment was so fraught with beauty and meaning that she couldn't speak.

At last he released her. “More later,” he said with a low, husky laugh. He took her elbow. “Now, let's get out of here before Naldona's soldiers come breathing down our necks.”

He didn't speak again until they had lifted off and were flying north over the dark forests and moonlit ribboned streams. He glanced at her searchingly. “You're very quiet. Are you very unhappy about leaving your home?”

Kira lifted her eyes from the rolling panorama below. Yes, it was sad to be leaving, particularly when she wanted so desperately to help Tamrovia. Yet Zack had said there would be ways for them to help in the struggle, and she knew together they would find those ways. In the final analysis, from now on wherever Zack was, her home would be, just as she would be the lodestone of his existence.

She held out her left hand and he took it and clasped it with warm, comforting strength.

“I'm not leaving home.” She smiled at him lovingly. “I'm going home, Zack. I'm going home.”

Iris Johansen has more than twenty-seven million copies of her books in print and is the New York Times bestselling author of Stalemate, Killer Dreams, On the Run, Countdown, Blind Alley, Firestorm, Fatal Tide, Dead Aim, and more. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia.