The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “No! Oh, love, I’m so sorry. Were ye close?”
Taz nodded. That’s when her tears flowed, unstoppable.
Mrs. Axelrod put a comforting arm around her shoulder despite her own tears. “He was such a playful thing, so sweet. A real flirt. Such a good man, comin’ here for years, always getting’ the same thing.” The florist stepped around the counter to get the order. When she returned, her eyes were red. “I’m so sorry, love.”
Two small bouquets, wrapped in pink and yellow tissue paper, bound with green ribbons. They were small and tasteful, and Taz wondered the significance.
“Here ye go.”
Taz reached for her purse, and the woman stayed her hand. “Naw, love. Not today. These’re on me.” She patted Taz’s shoulder. “How is Mr. Hawthorne holding up?”
More guilt on her part. “He’s getting along as well as can be expected under the circumstances.”
“I know they’se very close, those two, even though Mr. Collins was usually the one to come in.” Mrs. Axelrod shook her head. “I’m so sorry. Please give him my condolences.”
Taz felt steady enough to stand, although her knees were iffy. “Thank you, I will. Are you sure I can’t pay for these?”
The florist shook her head. “Not today, love.” She studied Taz. “Ye loved him, didn’t ye?”
Taz struggled not to cry again. “He was the love of my life,” she whispered, staring at the bouquets. As she spoke the words to this stranger who somehow wasn’t, Taz knew the truth. Rafael was the love of her life despite all her love and desire for Matthias.
“Hold him in ye heart, love. That’s all ye can do.”
Taz made it back to the car and carefully laid the flowers on the passenger seat. She stared at them for a long time, trying to compose herself. This was too much.
She threw her head back and looked at the roof of the car. “What am I supposed to do with these, Rafe?” she screamed, glad the windows were up so passersby couldn’t hear. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with these flowers?”
She closed her eyes and cried, slumped over the steering wheel, wondering if it would ever get better.
And then the whisper in her brain.
“Drive, Taz.”
She took a deep, hitching breath and quit trying to figure it out. When traffic cleared, she pulled out and carefully negotiated the small town’s streets, away from the highway, into the countryside. Remembering to drive on the left was a challenge, but she managed.
“Where to? Where to?” she mentally chanted.
With a mind of their own, her hands turned the wheel, following roads that progressively worsened until she was creeping down something that looked like little more than a muddy, rutted sheep track. It ended at an old, tall iron gate protected by a heavy chain and new, shiny combination padlock.
Terrific. What the hell do I do now?
The voice told her.
She shut the car off and got out. I’m crazy. This won’t work. With trembling hands she turned the combination dial and tugged.
The lock popped open.
She closed her eyes and shuddered. She had to tell Matthias about this before she went crazy. At least this whispering presence didn’t sound as much like Rafael as the other voice did.
Glad she wore sneakers, Taz gently gathered the flowers and locked the car, then looked through the gate. The property was overgrown, but a cleared path wound through the brush.
She took a deep breath and followed the trail.
Matthias shook his head and handed Tim her note. “Well, I suppose I can take care of my errand then.”
Tim put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe this is best. Perhaps going there would be too much for her right now. You can have some time alone. I should think you need it, put some things in their proper place. It’s time to release the past, isn’t it?”
Matthias nodded. It would be the first time he’d gone there in years. Over eight years since his last visit. It was too painful for him most of the time. Rafael always went, every year, and always made sure to take care of things for him.
“Albert, please get me a car.”
Albert nodded and called the hotel desk for the arrangements. Twenty minutes later, with sunglasses to hide his red eyes, Matthias drove north away from the city alone.
After fifteen minutes of walking, the winding path opened into a clearing. Taz stopped, reluctant to enter. What would she find?
“Go ahead. It’s okay.”
She couldn’t feel her feet anymore. Not from the weather, because the day had warmed, but because of her emotional shock. So this is what it feels like to lose your mind?
A soft, gentle chuckle in her mind was the only reply.
Dappled sunlight crept through the trees and scattered across the clearing. A square stone about two feet across, weathered and aged and green with lichen, lay near the center. Taz dropped to her knees in front of it, her heart racing, instinctively knowing its secret.
Sarah.
She laid one of the bouquets on it.
Ten feet away was a larger, smooth, round rock, about three feet in diameter. Taz carefully stood and drifted over to it. She started to sit and paused.
No, not there. She walked around to the other side and saw a small, natural depression in the stone and then she sat, carefully tucking the bouquet so it rested against the rock.
There. That’s right.
Then she closed her eyes and let the sudden wave of grief wash over her, as if an ancient ache even deeper than the one she felt for Rafael threatened to tear her apart. Unable to deal with the emotion, she gave herself over to it, sobbing a name into the sky and letting blessed blackness take her.
“Cassandra!”
“What do you mean, a woman came in?”
Matthias didn’t want to remove his sunglasses. He’d cried plenty of private tears during the drive and didn’t want to share that with anyone. This was something he needed to do for himself as well as Rafe.
“Just that, Mr. Hawthorne. She nearly fainted dead away when I asked if she was ’ere for Mr. Collins’ order.”
Matthias closed his eyes and silently swore. “Auburn hair and green eyes?”
“Aye, that’s her. Poor love, she’s awful ripped up over him, isn’t she? The love of her life, she said he was. I’m so sorry about him, Mr. Hawthorne. Such a shock it must be for ye.”
Matthias would process her comments later. “Yes, it was, Mrs. Axelrod. Thank you. I didn’t realize she was coming for them. Just a miscommunication.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. He was such a sweetheart.”
“Yes, he was.”
Matthias waited until exiting the shop to break into a jog back to his car. What the fuck? How in hell would Taz know about it?
He tried to calm down. She must have sensed it, that’s all. She read it in his thoughts.
But why not tell him?
He started the car, now sure where he’d find her.
Taz slowly opened her eyes. Her head rested on her arms, leaning against the rock. She sat back and wiped her face. How long had she been here? It felt like she cried a million tears from the way her nose felt stuffed up. Now she knew for sure, beyond any doubt.
This was where Rafael had buried his wife.
The stone felt cool beneath her palm, and in her mind she envisioned Rafael sitting in this exact place countless times over the centuries, the only time he allowed his tears to freely flow for Cassandra, his grief still as raw and painful as the night he took her life and released her from her pain.