Lost and Found

Have love and life passed me by? What am I? 38 – can’t be! What have I got to show for my life? One thing is - I’ve sold 8 million books. All romance. I reach for my little black moleskine book where I plan my bestselling series on its 240 lined pages.

There you’ll find Kisses and Temptations: Delicious bodice rippers in my pirate series. My nurse series, Secret Loves, stars the Nurse Susie Swan and a wounded soldier – will he ever walk again? Can love make miracles? “Yes, indeed,” my brave nurse would say. Then there are my historicals: My favorite would be Mistaken for a Lady: Poor governess enchants untamable Lord Wilmington. I love that guy! My cowboy series I call, Hard on the Trail. You’ll meet sweat-soaked cowboy Rick who wins the heart of the Hollywood starlet on location in the desert - even after he did her wrong. I’d like to forget my vampire series, First Bite. He came in the Night nearly got me kicked out of a few book clubs. Too much detail.

So even if I say so myself, I’m really good at love and romance… on paper that is. I live alone. But now I’m decided. Valentine’s Day is coming and I plan to be in love on that day. I’ve done all the prep. There’s a list in the back of my little black book entitled, “Real Life/Real Love”. Feng shui is the way to go. Bedroom must-haves to attract love are two pink candles, two peonies, massage oils and two naughty pillows. One reads “Ready” and the other “For Love.” They rest on my bed, king sized of course. I wonder if I’ve overdone the pink all over everywhere? I did stop short of signing up for that online dating site, Faces of Love. I’m hoping to find love without actually looking.

I close my eyes and imagine a tight embrace from the man of my dreams. Think you’ve guessed which one that is! Just as he impatiently taps his riding crop on his tightly clad thighs, my phone sings out “Love is a many splendored thing.”

I jump up in a shocked state, my lavender nightie flapping around my legs. (It is early afternoon but just one of those days.) I rummage around the mess and then I see it. I lunge under the couch but catch my nightie on a stack of poetry books. As I fall, I hit my head on my rose quartz heart crystal, twisting my ankle at the same time.

Crawling, I reach the still singing phone. Moaning, I press answer. A rich dark laugh echoes down the phone.

“Miss D. Light? Is that you? I’m intrigued.”

“I am in pain not lust.” I glance down at my ankle. Swelling already. An egg lump is forming on my head. I forget myself and start to sob. “Help me!”

“What’s wrong?” Now warm dark voice is concerned.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” My imagination runs to crushed bones and possible amputation. My ankle is so huge I’m glad I’m wearing my floppy bunny slippers.

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

Self-preservation creeps in. “Who actually is this?”

“It’s Blade of course! I emailed yesterday to let you know I was coming.”

Blade? I vaguely remembered Blade. Wasn’t he the Lord of Grimsby Manor when Cordelia was the governess and didn’t he pull her to safety when she was pushed over the turret by….? Just a minute. That was one of my books, Catch Me Before I Fall. I’m muddling everything up.

“I don’t know you.”

“It’s ok. We’re family. I’m on my way.”

“Nooo! Think you’ve got the wrong number. No Blades in my family.” (More’s the pity.) “Listen, I’m on my way to Emergency so I’ll have to hang up now.”

At least he didn’t know my address, whoever he was. And anyway, no one was getting into my fortress. I have a security system. But did I double lock the French windows last night? I drag myself across the carpet to check and that was the last thing I remember.

*****

“Dorothea,” someone was whispering in my ear and smoothing my forehead, avoiding the bump.

“What happened? Please let me take care of you. I’m more used to horses but switching over can’t be that difficult.”

“Horses?”

“I’m a vet.”

He puts his arms around me and lifts me, Rhett and Scarlett style, to the couch. I find myself staring into his deep, dark brown eyes, fringed with thick lashes. A shock of curly black hair frames his face that registers dismay and something else. My face flushes.

Frozen peas are soon on my propped-up ankle, pills of some kind by my side and a steaming cup of tea. “The cup that cheers and does not inebriate,” he announces. “Blanket? I put in milk and two sugars by the way.”

“Who? What? How?” Oh, my head aches.

He takes my hand in his. It is very comforting. “It’s just a sprain,” he announces. “No need to put you down. But you should rest. Now as for that bump.”

I look out the windows at a thick white blanket of snow hurtling past the window. “Snowfall warning and probably safer not to take you to emergency,” Blade decides.

I agree with that. I drag my nightie up to my neck and the blanket even higher.

“What exactly are you doing here in my house?”

“Blame that DNA website, My Flesh, Your Blood. You can find all your long- lost relatives and I found you. My long-lost cousin, a few times removed. Just flew into Canada from England this morning to find you. Your address is on the Internet.”

“Do people usually hop on a plane and fly off to meet a long-lost and ever so many times removed cousin? I don’t think so!” And something else is not adding up. I can’t help but notice he’s black and I’m white. (And a lot more handsome than the rest of the family if I’m honest.)

He smiled. “There is a reason I’m here. A big reason. But not now!” as I struggled to sit up. “When you’re feeling better. I’m going to put some soup on. I’ll need to stay and keep an eye on you. Ok if I make up the spare room?” Before I can say anything, he squeezes my hand and says, “We’ll talk later. I promise.”

“You seem quite young,” I blurt out.

“I’m 32, about your age I suppose.”

I nod in agreement.

I ’m still dizzy. It should be alright. He is family after all. I think.

*****

I hear him upstairs, roaming around my house. At one point he makes a call. On my landline. Something about the others must come over. Did he say they would make a party of it? I must have slept as now it’s dark outside and the blizzard still rages. Someone’s in the kitchen singing “Home on the Range”. I can just see the back of his head. What is he wearing? A fancy dress outfit? He turns and there stands a tall sandy haired cowboy wearing a Stetson hat.

“Howdy Ma’am. Rick here.”

“Where’s Blade?”

“Mighty glad to see you, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was plum scared for a while. The Doc’s high-tailed it out of town since the Buzzard Gang rode in. But I’ve got some fine liniment I want you to try.”

“I really think you should leave. How dare you come into my house and…!”

“You sure look pretty when you’re mad,” he chuckled. “Here, let me take your glasses off and see. You’re blooming like a cowslip on a sunny day.”

I slap at his hands and he steps back looking like a love-sick calf.

“This could be our second chance,” he whispers. “I let you go once. I was a fool. Take me back!”

“Love on the Rio Grande!” I scream. I hated that book. Loretta should never have forgiven two timing Rick! What was I thinking!

Rick skidaddles but not before I reach for the nearest book and fling it hard. With delight I get him between the shoulders. I fall back into my cushion, dazed. Tears ooze. I’ve obviously lost the plot, I think. This is it. I’m finally in the Twilight Zone.

Darkness falls and silence reigns. “When will I find my true love?” I whimper.

Suddenly I feel salty lips on mine. In the light from the fire, I see Pirate Jack. He’s kissing me so hard his eyepatch comes loose revealing his empty socket and red scar.

“Get off me right now!”

He laughs his pirate laugh, fruity like chutney, his cutlass pressing into my leg.

“Shiver me timbers. I always knew you was no cabin boy. You was in disguise my girl! So coy at hammock time! Ride the waves with me my merry mermaid.” His hand strays under my pink blanket.

I shove him hard and hear him hit the floor. Then silence.

Love on the High Seas? Yes, that’s the one. Why on earth did Annabelle like that rum soused fool and go running off with him?

“I can save him!” sobbed Annabelle. Yes, I stupidly wrote those words for her.

I lie there until the sky is rosy pink and the snow stops. The peas are all melted. The egg on my head is more poached than boiled. But where is Blade? Blade, so like Lord Wilmington. Cordelia really fell for him. I smooth my long blond ringlets realizing too soon my hair is short and dark and my name is not Cordelia. Who am I? My breathing tightened. Am I the governess, stowaway cabin girl, or cowgirl sidekick? Am I even a really famous romance writer?” Panic descends.

I force myself to stand up, wobbling on my ankle, listening to the silence of the house. Nothing. Do I hear the toilet flush? “Who…?”

I grab my phone. Do I need the police or ambulance? The phone says it’s February 14th. Already?

At that moment, Blade comes in through the French windows with a grocery bag, the neck of a bottle of white wine showing. My heart skips a beat.

“You’re looking better,” he grins. “Let’s eat and we’ll talk.”

The pink candles lit, the peonies centered on the pink cloth, lobster au gratin eaten, and the last sip of wine sipped. Then Blade holds out a small red box. Trembling, I open it to reveal a large gold ring, set with a ruby, and engraved Major D. Light and Aluna. 1942.

“Major Dennis Light was my great grandfather!” I exclaimed.

“Mine too,” said Blade.

“What!”

“Dennis married Aluna in 1942. This was their wedding ring. Aluna was my great grandmother and she died giving birth to my grandmother. The family never told Dennis about the child. They feared he would take her away when he went back to England.”

“I knew nothing about this!”

“Neither did I. My mother only told me the story last year when she gave me this ring after my father died. Then I really wanted to find my other family! But there are only you and I left, Dennis’ direct descendants.”

I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth and Blade says,

“I took it to the jewelers and it’s worth at least $40,000. $20,000 each or….?”

“Or?

He slips it on to my finger. The third finger of my left hand. His gaze meets mine.

“I want you to wear this ring and I want to share everything with you; my love and my life. I know now why I had to find you. I fell in love with you at first sight.”

And now I see him truly. Not Cowboy Rick, Pirate Jack or even Lord Wilmington. He is Blade from England, come all this way to find me. And I am found.