Finding You Again

The O'Toole's were a large, gregarious bunch. Well over a hundred members of the extended family were gathered on the grounds of Weeping Widow State Park for their bi-annual reunion around picnic tables laden with food and smoking grills barbecuing a wide assortment of meat. Elder members sat on lawn chairs alongside young mothers holding babies, sharing stories from their own youth, while men congregated in groups, laughing as they shared their recent hunting and fishing successes, or indulging in the good natured trash talk of fans for opposing sports teams. In the field alongside the gathering area a rowdy game of football was underway. No touch football here. It was full body contact with rules that were ambiguous at best. Anyone looking on from outside would have been surprised to see young women amongst the players, every bit as fierce as their male relatives, and they were neither asking nor giving any semblance of quarter. In pockets throughout the gathering, musicians played guitars, harmonicas, and the occasional banjo in a variety of musical genres, adding a lively soundtrack to the occasion.

On the periphery of it all, beneath a white canvas canopy that reflected the hot July sun and betrayed not an iota of a breeze, Patty O'Toole sat behind a cloth topped folding table covered with notebooks, photo albums, and scrapbooks, as well as boxes of file folders neatly labeled with the names of O'Toole ancestors. As the “official” family genealogist, it was her job to educate those interested in the family's rich heritage. She was also in charge of handing out the commemorative t-shirts designed especially for the occasion. In rich green cotton it proclaimed, “The O'Toole Family Reunion. Weeping Widow State Park, Tennessee, 2020. From Ireland and Beyond!”

The traffic to and from the canopy was steady without being overwhelming. Some who shared her passion for the family's history came to update their own records while others simply stopped by to ask if Great-Grandma So-and-So really, really was kin to Paul Revere. The wide variety of surnames reflected the lands from which the family had hailed, mostly Germany, England, Scotland, Wales, France, Scandinavia, and, of course, Ireland. There was also a small but strong line of Cherokee reaching back for generations, a line that the family was as fiercely proud of as they were their European roots. There were blondes, brunettes, red heads and the more rarely seen black haired individuals with every corresponding eye color. The O'Toole's represented a rich part of the melting pot that is America.

Patty fanned herself with an unused file folder as she watched the goings on. The resulting breeze momentarily relieved the heat but did little to relieve the uncomfortably high humidity, so sweat continued to bead and pour from her pores and hairline. Though her long, strawberry blonde hair was pulled high in a pony tail she absently wondered yet again if the time had come to cut it. Was forty too old for hair as long as hers? With her fair skin and jade green eyes, one would never know that the Cherokee part of the family ran strong in her branch. Two of her grandparents had been at least one fourth and the traditions and stories that had prevailed for generations were lovingly passed on as new ones were born. Despite this, they were the branch that was proving the hardest to research as many Cherokee in the past had worked diligently to hang on to their ancestral lands by assimilating into European society, taking European names, and living for all intents and purposes as White people. But to no avail. Because of the forced migration known as The Trail of Tears some families went to Oklahoma while others remained in North Carolina and other parts of the southeast.

But this year, for the first time, there were distant relatives of Cherokee descent with ties to the O'Toole family that had come to the reunion from Oklahoma. It didn't take long for them to become part of the celebration. To the delight of both teams, several of the young men and boys, big guys all, were now on the field taking part in the football game.

Patty watched it all from the shade of her canopy, feeling a little envious that she couldn't be more involved. But she had her niche and knew that she was providing valuable assistance to those who shared the same passion for genealogy as she. And it wasn't as if she were isolated. Far from it. She was one of those members of the family most acquainted with the various branches so there were many visits to her table for information and guidance with individual searches.

As she finished up with a third cousin, twice removed, she found herself smiling up at at large man that she didn't know. Tall, well built, dark complected, he stood before her with a soda in one hand and a large brown envelope in the other.

“Hi,” she greeted him with her ready smile, “I'm Patricia O'Toole, but everyone calls me Patty. How can I help?”

His own smile was full of good humor and, she was surprised to notice, male appreciation.

“Hi yourself.” His resonant voice with its slight western drawl sent shivers of awareness down her body. “I'm Simon Carson. I'm part of the Oklahoma delegation.”

Patty's smile widened, “Welcome, Simon. Are you having a good time?”

He nodded, “Yes, yes, I am. Too good actually. I'm going to have to change into larger pants before the day is over if I keep eating like I have.”

She chuckled, “You can always take part in the football game to work it off.”

He glanced over just in time to see a dog pile on the quarterback and pretended to shudder.

“I'm hardly that suicidal. I gave that up with college twenty years ago without breaking anything of importance. No need to risk it now.” He glanced down at the envelope in his hand. “I think you've been talking with my sister, Corrie, about the family tree. She wasn't able to come so she sent her information with me.”

Patty's delight was genuine as she accepted the envelope, “Oh, good! I've been looking forward to receiving it. I've already mailed my packet to her so now we each have points of reference when we talk. Thank you.”

Setting the envelope aside, she paused before reaching for an extra large t-shirt. Holding it up for his inspection she asked, “Would you like a shirt? They're gratis for newbies.”

He grinned and shook his head, “No, thanks. But I'll take one for Corrie. Do you have a medium?”

Patty handed him one then motioned to a couple of lawn chairs that were folded at the end of her table.

“You're welcome to sit, if you like. I can't guarantee it's anymore comfortable under here as out there, but you can do like me and pretend.”

Simon chuckled as he set his soda on the table and reached for a chair. Moments later he was settling in with a deep sigh, “Oh that feels good. I can feel the cool breeze already.”

She laughed, “Liar, but I'll take your word for it just the same.”

She relaxed back into her chair.

“So, Simon, what do you do for a living?”

“I'm an investigator for the county prosecutor's office.”

“What does that mean? Are you like a cop or something?”

“Closer to being a detective, actually. Simply put, cops catch bad guys,” he grinned, “I help put them away.”

“Is it dangerous?”

He shrugged, “It can be, I guess. I've had some challenging moments but so far nothing truly life threatening. I'm a little over ten years from being able to retire. Let's hope it remains relatively peaceful.” He paused, his head tilted slightly. “So what do you do when you're not manning the family tree booth?”

“I teach English as a second language online.”

“That sounds different.”

She nodded, “It is, and it's very interesting.” Her grin was quick and mischievous. “I can now swear in several different languages.”

The long afternoon passed, during which Patty and Simon became better acquainted. As people came and went with their questions, he was introduced to each and learned more than he thought he ever could about the O'Toole clan. At one point he wondered aloud if he should be taking notes for his sister and her genealogy research.

As the sun began its inevitable drop toward the horizon the football game finally ended and the family was called together for the traditional send off, The Scattering, as it was called. Without standing, Patty began to gather the papers and folders covering the table.

“Do you live near here?” Simon asked as he watched her add folders to boxes.

“About two hours away,” she replied. Then, as she started to close the top on the box of t-shirts, she impulsively pulled out the remaining extra large.

“Here,” she handed it to him with a smile, “A souvenir of the day and a thanks for your company.”

His hand closed over it but he didn't take it, telling her instead, “I'll accept it with one condition.”

“What's that?”

“That you'll sign it with your phone number.”

“My phone number?”

“Yes. I'd like us to stay in touch. That is, if we're not too closely related, of course.”

For the first time she looked troubled.

“No. We're only distantly related. But...”

He waited.

“But?”

She sighed, dropping her hand so that he alone was holding the shirt. She scooted her chair a little to one side then reached beneath the table and withdrew a cane. Rising unsteadily to her feet she leaned on it then looked back at him with a doubtful expression.

Simon looked down and noted the crookedness to her slim hips beneath her jeans, cocked his head to one side, then looked back into her eyes. His lips curved in a gentle smile.

“Okay. So you have trouble dancing. Is there anything else we can do together?”

Her eyes widened briefly in surprise before her own smile again blossomed. Opening the plastic box containing the money she had collected for the t-shirts, she withdrew a small card bearing her name, phone number, and the caption “O'Toole and Other Family Genealogy” and handed it to him.

“It's my cell number so I can be reached anytime.”

He made sure their fingers touched as he accepted it then slipped it into the pocket of his shirt.

“Thanks.”

Their gaze held for a few moments before she looked away, her cheeks turning a delicate rose.

“Can I help you pack things up?” he offered and was rewarded with another smile.

“That would be nice. Here,” she handed him a box of files, “Help me set these down so I can fold up the table cloth. Then we'll need to take down the table.”

In the distance The Scattering ended with everyone singing Thanks For the Memories, then people began making their way with their lawn chairs, coolers, and whatnot to their cars. A few of her closer cousins came to help carry her stuff to her car. After they walked away, Patty and Simon were left standing with her car door open between them.

“Are you going back to Oklahoma tonight?”

The setting sun caught the red in her hair, giving the faint impression of a halo about her head.

“No, we'll spend the night in town then start back in the morning. Will you be alright driving home alone?”

She nodded, touched with his concern, “Yes. It's interstate nearly all the way. You all be careful going back, too. You've a much longer drive than I have.”

With a final squeeze of her hand where it rested on top of the door, he promised to call her soon, then stood back and watched as she took her seat behind the wheel and turned the ignition. After pulling the seat belt across her body, she put the car in gear, gave him a gentle wave then pulled away to join the exodus of family members from the park.

~

That night, Patty dreamt she was a young woman, whole and healthy, and living in a place of peaceful beauty. She found herself walking along a river flowing over ancient rocks and lined by stands of laurel. She was dressed in a long calico dress with an apron tied about her waist. The sun was warm on her copper-colored skin and her ink black hair was tied so that it hung in a thick rope down her back. Her heart was thumping in anticipation as she waited.

A young doe caught her attention on the opposite bank and she paused to watch as it walked slowly away through the trees. When she turned back she started, then was filled with joy when she saw the young man emerging from between two laurel bushes. He wore soft deerskin breeches, a long linen shirt that appeared almost white against his dark bronzed skin, and a turban of mixed fabric covered his black hair. Her heart melted as it always did upon seeing him. He was so wonderfully handsome.

“Awohali! You have come,” she breathed as they reached for one anothers hands but her smile quickly died at his serious expression.

“The soldiers are gathering The People up and moving us to forts. From there, I'm told, we are to be moved to another place far away.”

“But why?”

“Because they want our land. Many have already been taken. The soldiers haven't reached us here on the Oconaluftee yet, but they soon will.” His hands tightened as he gazed intently into her eyes. “There are some who are leaving to go deeper into the mountains where we can't be found. I am going with them.” His hands tightened around hers as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Come with me, Tsisadu.”

Her mouth fell open in dismay, “But we are not yet married.”

“We will be but there is no time now.”

“But my family...”

“Someone has gone to tell them. We must leave, now, before the soldiers arrive.”

Trusting him implicitly, she nodded and he began to lead her up river. Eventually they moved inland to a place where there were others gathering to escape. Her family had not arrived. Hours passed and still they did not come. When the group began to move out she started to cry and become frantic until he took her by the arms.

“Do not worry. I will go back and find them and bring them to you.”

“No, Awohali!”

But he only pulled her close for a quick hug then, with two other men, disappeared into the woods.

Time passed as the group moved on, the way becoming increasingly more difficult as they moved higher into the mountains. They traveled only as fast as the elders could go, stopping as little as possible to rest and eat. Tsisadu began to believe something terrible had happened, and when they finally reached some caves high up above the valley floor she was sure of it. When darkness fell on their third day in the caves, she broke down and began to mourn.

~

The dream stayed with Patty for days afterward. It had been so real. Her every sense had been involved in the experience. What did it mean?

Simon called her three days after the reunion, and then nearly every day afterward. Weeks passed and their long distance relationship deepened, becoming more serious, with Simon frequently inviting her to visit him in Oklahoma. At first she was reluctant, coming up with one poor excuse after another, until eventually he wore her down and she agreed. Two weekends later she found herself headed west on I40.

Simon's house in Broken Arrow was a charming little bungalow that he had bought and renovated early in his career. Even before her car was completely stopped in the driveway behind his SUV he was coming around the corner from the backyard with a happy grin upon his face. His jeans clad legs carried him quickly to her car as he removed well worn leather gloves from his hands. His white t-shirt, with its patches of sweat and grime, bore the words, “Tulsa PD.”

“Hey you!”

Patty smiled in return, though it was a tired smile. She wasn't accustomed to traveling so long in one day but she had been eager to get here. Seeing him again, she wondered why she had been so shy about coming. Putting the car in park, she greeted him through the open window.

“Hi, Simon.”

She climbed from the car and was quickly enveloped in a tight hug. She returned the hug in full, thinking as she did how good it felt to be in his arms. He smelled of fresh mowed grass and sunshine, and a subtle earthiness that was all male. She found she liked how he smelled very much.

When they drew apart he asked about her trip, noting silently the fatigue that marred her usually vibrant face. She assured him the trip went fine then popped the trunk before reaching for her cane and waited while he retrieved her lone travel bag. Then, with a hand lightly touching her back, he led her up the few steps onto the wide, welcoming porch and into the house. It was cool and welcoming with high ceilings and plenty of light through large windows.

“Welcome to my home. This is the living room.” She had time to admire the masculine furnishings with their warm southwest motif and the clean, empty fireplace, before following him down a short hall. “And in here is your room.” He opened the door to a nicely sized, airy room and set the bag on the double size iron bedstead before turning to face her. “I'm glad you're finally here.” His eyes reflected his blatantly satisfied smile. “Make yourself comfortable. The top two drawers of the dresser are empty. The bath is across the hall and towels and washcloths are on the shelves beside the sink. Feel free to freshen up. When you're ready I'll be in the kitchen beside the living room fixing us something to eat. I thought sandwiches and salad?”

She nodded, “That would be fine, thank you. And thank you for having me here.”

“As I said, I'm glad you're here. Just come on out when you're ready.”

He paused a moment before backing out and shutting the door quietly behind him. She was charmed to see the door knob was faceted glass then turned back toward the room. It's neutral colors were meant to soothe and relax, which they did excellently as she unpacked.

Later, after their light dinner, they talked about his day and her trip, as well as some of the things they could do during her upcoming week there. As the hour grew late, exhaustion began to set in in earnest and Patty had trouble with keeping her eyes open, but she refused to let the night end. Finally, it was Simon who announced that she needed to get some sleep. Standing up, he offered her his hand to help her to her feet.

“We have seven days to spend together,” he reminded her with an affectionate smile,”No use trying to do it all at once, as much as I'd like to.”

She returned his smile with a tired one of her own and accepted his hand up. Before she could do so, he picked up her cane and, after she accepted it, walked her slowly down the hall to her bedroom.

“I'm an early riser but you sleep as long as you want,” he told her. “There's no timeline as to when we have to do anything. We're both on vacation here.”

Patty nodded then hesitated, shy and uncertain what to do next. But he only kissed her cheek then gently nudged her into the room.

“Goodnight, Patty, and, again, I'm glad you're here.”

She smiled softly in return and with a nod, closed the door quietly behind her.

~

That night as she slept, Patty found herself standing in a grove of cottonwoods surrounding a quiet pool of water. Looking around she felt a warm breeze lift her black hair where it hung loose about her shoulders as she looked out on what seemed to be endless prairie. Hearing a sound she turned and found Awohali standing nearby, watching her with eyes aglow with love.

“Awohali!” Her voice was hopeful and incredulous at the same time, “Is it you?

“Yes, Tsisadu. At last you have found me.”

With a happy sob, she ran into his waiting arms and they held each other as he rained little kisses upon her face before settling gently on her lips.

“I have missed you,” she whispered when they drew apart, “Where have you been? I waited and waited but you never came.”

“Before we could lead the others away, we were captured by the soldiers and forced to make the journey here.” He tenderly brushed the hair from her face. “I did not want to leave you but I could not leave the old ones, either. And I was afraid the soldiers would follow me to where you were.”

She hugged him again and they walked for a while among the cottonwoods at the water's edge. After too brief a time he told her she had to return.

“But why? Why can't we be together?”

He touched her face with gentle hands, “But we are. I am right here. See me.”

And he left her with a kiss.

~

Patty awoke to mid-morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains. It took her a moment to remember where she was and she felt a quick rush of happy anticipation for the day ahead. Sitting up, she listened but could hear nothing, so she rose and put on the robe she had draped over the footboard then brushed the worst of the tangles out of her hair before padding quietly from the room. In the kitchen she found a pot of coffee waiting and a note telling her he was out back in the garden. Electing to shower and dress before seeing him, she took her cup of coffee and returned to her room.

An hour later she emerged to the aroma of frying bacon and followed it to the kitchen. There she found Simon standing at the stove, tongs in hand as he turned the bacon in a skillet.

“Good morning,” she greeted him, saluting with her empty cup, “and thank you for the coffee. With it and a hot shower I am approachable once more.”

“And good morning to you,” he responded with a grin, “Breakfast will be ready in a jiffy. How did you sleep?”

She crossed to refill her cup then took a seat at the table.

“Wonderfully. I do believe that was the best night's sleep that I've had in a long time.”

“You were pretty tired last night so that isn't surprising.”

She sipped as he transferred the bacon to a plate lined with a paper towel. Lifting an egg from the carton he glanced at her with one brow raised in inquiry.

“How many eggs would you like?”

“I'm hungry this morning. Make it three.”

“Ah! A woman with an appetite. I like that.”

She chuckled, not feeling in the least shy about it.

“So what's on the agenda for today?”

He cracked the first of her three eggs into the grease left by the bacon.

“Since you like American western art I thought we'd take a trip up to Tulsa to the Gilcrease Museum, followed by dinner.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Then we'll leave right after breakfast.”

It was early evening by the time they returned. After a quick trip to her room to stow away the small print she'd purchased in the museum gift shop and to shuck her shoes, she quickly freshened up before returning to the living room. There in the subdued light of a table lamp, she settled on the sofa, feeling comfortable enough to fold her legs to one side on the cushions. Slow jazz played softly from the stereo, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

“Would you like some wine?” Simon asked from the kitchen.

“That would be lovely.”

Moments later he handed her a glass of chardonnay before taking a seat on a large, overstuffed chair. Settling back, he comfortably stretched out his legs and took a sip from his own glass.

“Did you have a good time today?”

She smiled and nodded, “I had a wonderful time. Thank you for taking me to the museum. Their Native American collection was incredible.” She took a sip from her glass. “I especially liked that one painting by the Cherokee artist. I can't remember her name right off, but it was gorgeous.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence, listening to the music as it moved soothingly through the room. Then he made a comment about a bronze he particularly liked and they spent an enjoyable hour discussing and sharing their thoughts about other exhibits at the museum, followed by other art they liked as well. The evening passed without any thought of time, until she realized it was nearly midnight.

“I guess I should be getting off to bed,” she told him regretfully as she stifled a yawn, “before I fall asleep on you. Two glasses of wine are enough to put me under for a few hours.”

He chuckled as they stood, “I'll have to remember that.”

They found themselves standing close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, and didn't move away as his gaze fell to her lips.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” she said softly as her eyes met his with an unconscious invitation. An invitation that he accepted and leaned forward to brush her lips with his.

“It was my pleasure.” Raising his hand to cup the side of her face, he kissed her again before releasing her. “See you in the morning.”

With a soft smile she nodded and bade him good night before going to her room.

~

Over the coming days Simon continued to take her to interesting places in the Tulsa area. Hand in hand, they visited the Tulsa Zoo, the Air and Space Museum with its accompanying planetarium, the Cherokee Nation Welcome Center, the Woody Guthrie Museum, viewed the intriguing Center of the Universe, and shopped countless antiques stores, where Patty, having a passion for women's accessories, had to struggle to maintain her good economic sense. Evenings were spent quietly at home. Following meals they prepared together using vegetables from Simon's small garden off the backyard, they would snuggle together on the sofa, recounting their days and sharing bits and pieces of themselves as their relationship continued to deepen. Always, the night would end with a final, increasingly ardent embrace.

On the day they had intended to attend a large pow wow to watch one of Simon's cousins fancy dance, storms and torrential downpours convinced them to stay at home and remain indoors. After volunteering to put a roast in his crock pot, Patty availed herself of his washer and dryer then considered what to do next. There were just two days remaining before she would be returning home and, if she were being honest, she was grateful to the weather for giving them the perfect excuse to spend the day alone with only themselves for company.

About that time Simon challenged her to a game of Scrabble, declaring her to be a worthy opponent. With an unholy glint in her jade eyes she accepted the challenge, and for the next two hours proceeded to trounce him. He often accused her of cheating because he didn't know if the words she claimed to know from working with multi-lingual students were real or not. It was a charge she neither confirmed nor denied, which only added to the fun. In the end he conceded his defeat with grace and characteristic good humor and proclaimed her prize would be an official Scrabble dictionary, if such a thing existed.

But as the day progressed their awareness of one another grew. Dinner that night was quiet with progressively longer, more intimate looks shared between them. Neither partook of the apple pie they had brought home from a bakery the day before.

As Patty had been the one to cook, Simon urged her to relax in the living room while he cleaned up. She left the kitchen with an infinitesimal shake of her head. Relax? She didn't think so. She was just too full of yearning and expectation. And the awareness that their time together was fast approaching its end.

She wasn't a complete innocent but neither was she very experienced. It had been a long time since she'd felt like this about anyone and, even then, there had been little true romance to the relationship. She had been young and in love with someone who was older and in love with himself. She hadn't realized that there could be so much more than what he had given her. Only maturity and the observation of others had shown her that. But then the accident that had maimed her for life had intervened and no one had shown any real interest in her since.

Until Simon. Simon, with his smiles and sensitivity, and with his warmth and gentle patience. Somehow with him she had circumvented the self doubt and feminine insecurity that had plagued her since before the accident as her heart slowly, and inevitably, filled with love. She had known for days that she would eventually offer that heart to him. As she stood before a window looking out at the storm, she decided it would be tonight.

After turning out the kitchen light, Simon entered the living room to find her standing quietly before the window looking out over the street. Dusk had fallen and the rain continued, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the porch, but she seemed absorbed in the view and her thoughts. In the subdued glow of a single table lamp he could see she was standing without her cane. His heart sped up but his movements were slow as he approached her and slid his arms around her waist. Drawing her back against him, he rested his chin atop her head and shut his eyes.

“Have I mentioned how lovely you are tonight?”

She smiled quietly and rested her hands on his, “No.”

“How very remiss of me.”

Turning his head he began to nuzzle her ear through her unbound hair.

“You are quite the loveliest woman I've ever known.” His attention dropped to the side of her neck. Drawing her hair back, he felt the shiver run through her as he breathed against her skin. “Damn, but you smell good.”

“I'm not wearing perfume.”

“All the more enticing.”

He nibbled his way down until the collar of her soft cotton blouse got in the way, then gently nudged it aside until he'd reached her shoulder. Another shiver ran through her as she shifted her head just enough to give him access. He raised his hand to rest just below her breasts while her own slid to his bicep.

“You know where this is going, right?” He asked, his voice a quiet growl.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Yes,” she repeated, her voice whisper of sound. “I want you, Simon.”

Turning her, he kissed her gently, then more insistently as his tongue traced the seam of her lips until they opened to him, allowing it entry and meeting him with her own. Going up on her toes, she slid her arms around his neck and brought her body into perfect alignment with his as his hands traced her back to rest against her derriere.

“Let's get away from this window,” he rasped against her cheek, “so the neighbors don't get a peep show.”

She chuckled shakily, “I don't think I can move.”

Without a word, he lifted her in his arms then looked down into her slumberous eyes, “Where?”

“Your bed.” Reaching up, she nipped him gently on his chin. “And hurry.”

Some time later, Patty lay snuggled against him, enjoying the feel of his strong, nude body against hers and his arms tight around her as their hearts finally returned to their normal rhythms. Resting her head on his shoulder, she watched in the low glow of a bedside lamp as her hand ran through the light fur covering the broad expanse of a chest just muscular enough to be attractive without becoming overwhelming, and fairly purred with contentment.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are magnificent?” she asked, and he grinned.

“Not recently, no.”

“Well, you are.”

“Mmm, and you are beautiful.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and took a deep breath before covering her hand with his before it reached his nipple.

“You wore me out, babe. I'm totally useless right now.”

She rubbed her leg over his, “Not for long, I hope.”

He chuckled quietly, “Not if you keep that up.”

She smiled with feminine satisfaction before her expression grew serious. They lay quietly for long moments before she whispered,

“Simon?”

“Um hm?”

“Is it too soon to tell you that I love you?”

He stilled and she felt his heart speed up again against her cheek. Turning her chin up, he met her gaze searchingly.

“Do you?

“Yes.”

He pulled her head down to rest against his neck as his arm tightened around her. His voice rumbled against her ear.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me know I'm not alone in this.” Running his hand up into her hair, he pulled her head back so their lips were a mere breath apart, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

Her eyes grew misty just before he closed the distance between them and proceeded to show her how much.

The sun was again shining when Patty awoke the next morning and found herself spooned against Simon's body and his breath falling gently upon her temple. She resisted the urge to stretch like a contented cat and instead lay quietly, relishing the knowledge that she was loved by the incredible man sleeping so close behind her. She, too, felt that she had loved him forever. Thinking back she remembered how comfortable she'd been with him from the beginning. Her normal shyness with men had been absent, something she hadn't really considered. Perhaps her heart had known all along that they were meant to be.

She felt him stir and reached over her shoulder to languidly touch his hair.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

There was a moment of silence while he came fully awake, then he planted a kiss on her cheek.

“So you aren't a dream?”

She smiled, “Nope.”

“Thank god.”

Turning over, she wrapped her arms about his neck and met his sleepy gaze.

“No regrets?”

He brushed a tangle of strawberry blonde hair away from her cheek.

“None whatsoever.”

“I'm sorry I didn't come to Oklahoma sooner.”

“The time wasn't right. You weren't ready.”

He cupped her cheek with a gentle hand as his voice softened.

“And now? Would you consider moving here, permanently?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes. Here, with me, in this house. You can work online from here and...”

She chuckled and laid a finger over his lips, “No need to convince me, Simon. I was hoping you'd want me to.”

His answering smile was brilliant and he gently nipped a soft fingertip. Then his expression changed, growing tender and a little hesitant.

“I want more than that. I think I've been waiting for you all my life.”

“How much more?”

“When I said permanently, I meant permanently. I want to be more than your friend and your lover. I want to share my life in every way.”

She waited, her eyes growing misty as she lovingly traced the length of his nose. Then she kissed him gently before saying, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I'll marry you, Simon.”

His smile returned and he rested his forehead against hers before meeting her lips with a happy growl. Within moments their joy was transformed into passion as they gave themselves over to the wonder of having found the love they'd each been searching for for so long.

~

Later as she slept, Patty again found herself amid the cottonwoods alongside the quiet pond. She faced Awohali wearing a white shawl which she solemnly tied to one he was wearing in the traditional manner, and his voice was strong as he declared, “Tsisadu, now there are no weaknesses, shame or sorrows between us. We are joined in happiness and peace. We are at last together, as we were meant to be.”

Then, in the light of a new day, they tenderly sealed their love with a kiss.