The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove (40 page)

“I’ll make it,” Gus said. “No matter what it takes.” He quickly mounted the horse, turned it back the way they’d come, and dug his spurs in for the ride of his life.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

T
he
Cormorant
set sail on a beautiful, crystal clear evening in late April. Sandy had come down to wish her
bon voyage
, and now Lia stood on the deck of the elegant steamship, pulling her shawl around herself as she watched the lights of the city slowly recede. She saw smaller boats plying the waters of San Francisco Bay, some of them approaching the ship, as if they were dolphins frolicking around a whale. She heard the somber horn of a tugboat; it matched her mood perfectly. She wished more than anything in the world to be on it instead of where she stood.

But the die was cast. She was running away. From society. From her troubles.

And most of all, from the love of her life.

She took a deep breath. The bracing salt air scoured her lungs, forestalling yet another barrage of tears and clearing her head at last. A voice inside her said, “Honolulu is only a few days’ away. You can turn back there.” She tried to ignore it, but it kept insisting she listen. In fact, it grew louder. And the louder it grew, the stronger Lia felt. Until finally she knew. She headed back to her cabin, once more full of purpose.

Moments later, she pulled her black negligee from the stack of undergarments she’d already put in the built-in drawers of her stateroom. Holding it suspended, she savored the memories it contained before dropping it back into her trunk.

“I remember that one,” a beloved voice murmured from behind her. “Even though I wouldn’t let you wear it for very long.”

Lia whirled around to see Gus standing in the doorway, leaning calmly against the frame. He was wearing a slicker, and his hair was wet. She felt her heart heave mightily and then contract, as if settling back where it belonged.

“What…How did you get here? Mrs. Coats said you were away on business.” She looked toward the porthole. “The ship…”

Gus entered her cabin and shut the door. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the only chair in the small room. Running his hands through his hair, he closed his eyes and let out a weary sigh, as if he were finally home after a long, exhausting day at work. “I missed a train down in southern California and had to take the next one,” he admitted ruefully. “That put me behind the
Cormorant
by nearly thirty minutes. I had to find a tugboat captain willing to chase down a steamship for no good reason.” His eyes met hers and held on. “Except there was every good reason.”

“Gus,” she offered quietly. She felt paralyzed, as she had the first time they’d met. Only this time she didn’t mind. This time she welcomed the magic weaving itself around her.

He glanced at the trunk on the floor and frowned. “It looks like you were packing.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the nightgown. Every thought fell away but the truth. “I…I was thinking that maybe I…maybe I should stop in Honolulu and turn back.”

Gus stepped closer. “Why?”

She gazed at him, this man who had turned her life upside down. This man who exuded such power but didn’t abuse it…who worked hard and loved hard and wanted her for who she was and not who society expected her to be. This man whom she desired with everything that was in her. “It was something Sandy said. About listening to my heart instead of what other people might think.”

“And what is your heart telling you?”

Lia sighed. “That I love you. That I will never love anyone else as much as I love you.”

“And that’s enough for you to defy convention and live a life that others will condemn?”

Lia swallowed and hesitated. That was the question, wasn’t it? “I…I hope I will get used to it.”

“And what about children?”

“That is the hardest part,” she admitted. “I hope if I had a child with you they would be strong enough…”

“Strong enough to stand being called a bastard?” He bit the words out. “No. You were right the first time. He or she wouldn’t deserve that. And neither would you. You deserve everything—including the name of the man you love, if you want it. You made the right decision to leave.”

“Oh.” Lia felt her eyes brim with tears. She swallowed convulsively. She didn’t know what to think now.

He reached beyond her and picked up the remaining articles of clothing from the drawer and dropped them on top of the nightgown in the trunk.

“And I made the right decision to follow you.”

Lia frowned. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” he replied gently, drawing a finger down her cheek. “You deserve everything. Before, the only thing I couldn’t give you was my name. But…” Gus pulled a small box from his pocket. “In a few months’ time I’ll even be able to give you that. Amelia Ruth Bennett Powell Starling, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He opened the box to present her with a diamond and amethyst engagement ring, one that matched the color of her eyes perfectly.

Lia looked down at the box in disbelief, tears now flowing freely down her face. “I…I don’t understand.”

Gus led her to the bed and sat down next to her. “I owe it all to Will,” he explained. “Somehow he did what Pinkerton’s men couldn’t. He tracked down Mattie. Turns out Mattie’s friend was lying to me the whole time.” He gave Lia a half grin. “Would you believe, Mattie’s remarried, has a son, and is expecting a third?”

Lia gripped his arm. “What?! What about Annabelle? Did you see her?”

Gus nodded. “She’s pretty as a picture, Lia. And smart. And lively. She thought I was her dead papa come to life. But she’s happy as can be with the man she calls ‘Papa Nathan’ and that…that was hard to put my head around. But, after all this time, it’s good to know my little girl is safe.”

He paused and she watched his own eyes fill with tears. Lia touched his rough cheek with her small hand while he gained control. “I am so happy you finally know,” she whispered. She paused and thought about it, adding, “But how could your wife be married?”

Gus shrugged. “She truly thought I was dead. Even named her little boy after me. The friend of hers who lied to me lied to her as well. So she didn’t bother lookin’ for me or gettin’ a divorce. Needless to say, when Will got through explaining the legal mess they were in, she and her man readily agreed to our terms. It’ll take six months, but once she and I divorce, she’ll marry him legally with no one the wiser.” He pulled her closer to him. “In the meantime, I thought I’d look into my shipping interests in the East, maybe do some sightseeing. Maybe see that Mona Lisa you talked about. I’ve got a lot of the world to explore, providing I have the right person to share it with. And before I know it…”

“… you’ll be free!” Lia wrapped her arms around Gus’s neck, pressing her body as close to his as she could get and toppling them back onto the bed. He felt so good. So very, very good. She felt him harden beneath her and smiled into his neck.

Gus reached up and cradled her face in his hands. “That’s right. Free to marry the woman I love more than life itself…if she’ll have me.”

Lia looked into his eyes. “You know I’ll have you,” she cried, hugging him with a joy that soared like a rainbow of color out of her heart and into his. “I’ll have you and hold you and cherish you forever!”

Gus laughed, catching her joy in his strong, loving arms. “Paint the story of our lives, my dearest love,” he said, just before taking her mouth in a deep, soul-mending kiss.

And she did.

EPILOGUE

From page two of the San Francisco Call,
November 28, 1903:

SHIPPING TYCOON WEDS

WORLD-RENOWNED ARTIST

M
r. August Wilkerson Wolff, owner of Wolfstone Enterprises and Pacific Global Shipping, was joined in holy wedlock Thursday with the well-known muralist Amelia Ruth Starling. The pair exchanged vows in a private ceremony in New York City attended by family members and a few close friends, including Mr. and Mrs. George Powell II, William Firestone, of the San Francisco Firestones, and Mr. Sander de Kalb, son of Colonel Jasper de Kalb of New York City. The newlyweds plan to travel across country by train before settling north of San Francisco near the town of Little Eden, where Mr. and Mrs. Wolff plan to build an estate and artists’ retreat known as The Grove.

T
hank you for reading
The Art of Love.
I hope you enjoyed it and will share your thoughts with others via social media like Twitter, Facebook, Google+, and Pinterest. Reviews on Amazon and Goodreads are also helpful, and of course I’d love to hear from you (see my links below). Please visit my website at
www.abmichaels.com
.

The Art of Love
is a prequel to my new contemporary romance series entitled “Sinner’s Grove.” The idea for Sinner’s Grove started more than ten years ago while I was living in San Anselmo, a little town north of San Francisco in Marin County, California. If you drive due west from there, you’ll come to the Point Reyes National Seashore. The land in between is gorgeous, with a series of little towns giving way to dairy farms which then morph into hills and trees and coastline. My sister-in-law and I would poke around the area and wonder aloud what it would be like to live there, a world apart from the crazy energy of the greater San Francisco Bay Area. We brainstormed and came up with a fictional bayside community called Little Eden. And you know where there’s Eden, there’s got to be some sin…and the idea of Sinner’s Grove was born.

LOOK FOR THESE TITLES SOON:

Sinner’s Grove (available September 2014)

A startling discovery when she was 14 left San Francisco artist Jenna Bergstrom estranged from her family; unforeseen tragedy only sharpened her loneliness. But now her ailing grandfather needs her expertise to re-open the family’s once-famous artists’ retreat on the California coast. The problem? She’ll have to face architect Brit Maguire, the ex-love of her life.

Seven years ago, Maguire spent a magical time with the girl of his dreams, only to have her disappear from his life completely. Now she’s back, helping with the biggest architectural renovation of Brit’s career. No matter how deep his feelings still run, Brit can’t afford the distraction of Jenna Bergstrom, because something is going terribly wrong with the project at Sinner’s Grove.