Claiming The Prize (10 page)

Solemn quietness greeted her upon
entry, the wooden pews standing in uniformity before her, lining
the aisles like sentinels in vigilant watch.
Passing each row,
Grace pressed toward the front, and kneeling, made the sign of the
cross before taking her seat.
Alone, she stilled herself.
Her heart
ached thinking of Drago's departure.

The months since Drago's arrival had
slipped away in the blink of an eye.
Six months had seemed distant
when she met him, now it was at an end, long enough to cultivate
love in her heart, but not long enough for permanency.
If only he
weren't leaving in less than two weeks.
She could find no comfort
in the thought of these remaining days, for they would not belong
to her.
Interviews, meetings, and business would keep him.
She knew
she was being selfish, and inwardly she chastised herself, but to
no avail.
She must find the strength to be cheerful, to enjoy each
minute left with Drago.
The memories would have to sustain her.
Fear that he would forget her once he was again in Slovakia
lingered in the recesses of her mind, and Grace forced it away
defiantly.
At least for now.
There would be time enough to worry
about that once he was gone.

The stained glass glowed sky-blue as
it filtered the sun's rays through its heavy lens, bathing the
chapel in aqua light, inspiring Grace to praise God for its created
beauty.
The gleam of sunlight filled her with such peace and
happiness, yet it was only the mirrored hint of the Almighty, who
was light.
This profound thought compelled her to imagine the joy
to be experienced at basking in the light of Christ when one day
she would be united with Him.
The wonder of the idea loosed her
tongue, her prayers spilling out as a pitcher overflows its brim.
She praised and thanked, recited the poetry of Scripture, confessed
and wondered.
Her doubts and cares were unburdened upon the Good
Shepherd with faith that He knew her heart and worked for her
good.

“
Lead me in Your Way,
Lord,” she whispered aloud.
“I accept Your will, Amen.”

Raising her head, finally empty of
words, Grace remained in solitude, the muted rays of light soaking
into her through the blue-green glass.
The shadows of the altar
lengthened, marking the passage of time, and tucking away her
daydreams she gathered herself, slipping from the pew.

In the stillness, Drago
occupied the back pew.
He had come in search of her, and finding
her in the sanctuary had left her undisturbed.
A smile of surprise
showed on her face as she closed the gap between them.

“
Your father told me I may
find you here.
I was looking for you.”

“
Anto let you out of the
gym?
He must be getting soft.”

Her lighthearted words took
effort.

The grin on Drago's face hinted at
boyish charm before it faded.
He stood, and they fell in step
together back toward the offices.

“
You said you were looking
for me...,” she more asked than stated.

Drago didn't answer right away,
opening the door before her.
Thick July air pressed upon them the
instant they stepped outside.
Along the outdoor walkway, salmon and
white impatiens' blossoms topped their deep, green stems,
encouraging passersby to follow the circuitous path to the parking
lot.
Intersecting paths offered a longer stroll, and each path
converged in a center garden.
A rather small fountain and pond
marked the center of the modest garden, and curved limestone
benches edged the water feature on the four compass points.
Large
urns rested beside each bench, filled with pink geraniums, and tall
hedges grew up behind, creating the illusion of a secret garden.
The sounds of summer buzzed in the background as the bubbling
fountain water trickled into the pond beneath.

“
I have not come only to
share your company for the afternoon.
There is something I wish to
speak to you.”

Grace's throat went dry as she
instinctively knew that whatever Drago said next would bring her
the answers to her heart's questions, and the prospect that, with a
word, her hopes may be dashed left her unsure of her desire to
hear.
At least in ignorance she could dream.
Drago took her hands
in his, guiding them to a simple park bench under the shady canopy
of a towering maple.

“
We leave tomorrow,” he
stated, “And we may not have much opportunity to be alone until we
return.”

“
Yes, I know,” she said in
acknowledgment.

“
I am happy you will be
there, Grace,” he paused long enough for her to raise her eyes in
expectant regard, “But I will be happier if you are wearing
this.”

Between his thick fingers rested a
princess cut diamond perched upon a platinum band, the gleaming
square surrounded by petal shaped sapphires.
Voice heavy with
emotion, Drago uttered the words that Grace Antolini had dared hope
to hear.

“
I love you Grace.
Will you
become my wife?”

Grace tucked this moment away in her
memory, never wanting to lose the sublimity of emotion captured in
her surroundings, in his words.
Dappled sunlight sifted down
through the gently fluttering leaves, the soft, warm currents
brushing loose wisps of hair over her skin as she drank in the
masculinity of the man she would marry.
The proud forehead, strong
nose, and firmly set jaw were the physical manifestations of the
strength, integrity, and wisdom housed within his soul.
His eyes,
still, deep pools, promised calm and peace amid life’s storms.
His
form, powerful and lean, offered the security of protection.
Drago,
out of his deep respect for others, commanded respect in return.
With love's eye exposing the man before her, Grace loved him as he
was, and tears welled in her dark eyes as she accepted
him.

“
I will.”

Gently taking her hand, he slipped the
heavy ring onto her finger and pulled her into his arms.

“
Milujemtá, moj milovany,”
he husked against her hair.

Without translation, Grace
understood.

“
And I love you,
Drago.”

* * *

Guy Antolini paced the
length of the drive outside his home, anxious to get on the road.
As he did so, he went over the checklist in rapid fire succession
with Yves, who lounged on the rattan furniture, which sat under the
shady, wisteria laden pergola.
Yves reassured him for the umpteenth
time that all was in order, chuckling to himself at his longtime
friend's meticulous attention to detail.

Carson had not been seen since Guy had
suspended him, and as far as Yves was concerned it was for the
best.
Rumor abounded that Carson was self-destructing.
Anto and his
team did not need the trouble, nor the publicity that would follow.
Naturally, Guy had since focused all his attention on Drago.
After
last evening's quiet announcement of his daughter's engagement to
Zadrovec, Yves understood the man's higher than usual pre-fight
agitation.

Fate, it seemed, agreed that Guy had
waited long enough, producing Drago with red duffel in hand at the
same moment that Grace bounded out the front door.
Each man stared,
for she looked lovely.
The simple cotton dress, a stonewashed denim
hue, rested mid-knee.
It gathered at her waist loosely, held by a
thin, chestnut, leather belt, and the sleeves tapered slightly just
above her elbows.
Her tan legs were bare, and open-toed flats
covered her dainty feet.
A loose knot of dark hair at the back of
her head threatened to spill down, creating a stunning casualness
of appearance.
Grace's thought had been to keep cool and
comfortable in her selection of dress, but as a result, Drago would
be less than comfortable.

Loading their things into the back of
the vehicle, the foursome departed.
Yves drove as Guy read over
First Strike business matters, leaving Drago and Grace to
themselves.
They spoke at times, but mostly enjoyed the scenic
views.
Vast expanses of farmland, heavy with growing corn, rose and
fell over the rolling hills.
Other crops striped the gentle slopes
in varying degrees of green, from minty to pastels to deep
evergreens.
Knowing he should take in the beauty around him did not
stop Drago.
His eyes returned to the beauty sitting beside him
often.

Her slender hand rested on the book in
her lap displaying the ring of their promise, and Drago studied,
again and again, the way it snugly wrapped her finger.
Just
yesterday it had been bare – now it bore the sign of their future.
She was his.
A long engagement was not something he could endure.
He would arrange things as quickly as possible; they would marry in
the fall.

He had been apprehensive about asking
Grace to follow him to Slovakia, knowing it would be difficult for
her to leave the only home she'd known, to leave her father, but
she had agreed without hesitation.
He would have relocated to the
States if she had asked him, but a part of him was glad she hadn't.
Slovakia was his home.
He loved the city of Bratislava and wanted
to show it to her, to experience with her its beauty and wonder.
Success in his career may necessitate a move to the States in the
future, but for a time, Drago wanted to be afforded the privacy of
newly married life nestled in the close knit community he
treasured.

When she gestured for him to take in
the sight of a quaint farmhouse, or explained that a housing
development had just a few years before not dotted the horizon, he
listened intently, enjoying the soft lilt of her voice and the long
line of her exposed neck.
When silence returned, his thoughts
drifted to weightier matters.

In marrying, he was assuming
responsibility for Grace.
Marriage was a covenant relationship, and
by taking her to wife, he was agreeing to be held accountable
before God for providing for her physically, attending to her
emotional needs, and leading her spiritually.
He took his beliefs
seriously.
For months he had prayed, asking God to prepare and
equip him to fulfill the vows he would someday make.
He studied the
Scriptures faithfully to grow in his own relationship with his
Savior.
He had prepared for this time; soon, he would live it.
The
sheer scope of its implications was humbling, yet its practice was
almost juvenile in its simplicity.

No greater love has he, than
he who lays down his life for his friend.

Of course, Drago would protect Grace
if needed, even to death.
The real application, Drago had been
taught, was in laying down one's life in the everyday.

“
Lay down pride to admit
when wrong and ask forgiveness.
Lay down wants to satisfy another's
need.
Turn down a day of relaxation to ensure one's friend knows
they are cherished.
Take on extra tasks to ease another's burden,
and do all these without expecting anything in return,” Father
Svalina had explained to him.
“My son, this is love.”

Drago was ready to love.

* * *

Having checked into their lodgings,
Guy took Drago to work some technique, and they left Grace to relax
before the morrow's activity.
Grace took the time to map out a few
places of interest she thought Drago would like to see if time
permitted in the days after his bout.
Philadelphia boasted many
historic sights in relation to the founding of her country, all of
which she knew would interest her fiance.
Once finished with the
task, she curled up with a book to pass the time.
The excitement of
the last few days had kept her going non-stop.
Alone in her room,
exhaustion crept over her, and she drifted into sleep.

A wake up call, in the form of her
father's knock at the door, brought the realization that she had
slept straight through to the next day.