She found the most amazing thoughts going through her dying brain.
The way he had professed his love to her, over and over, in sometimes the kookiest ways.
She really should have gotten to know more of the people at Camelot, she decided. She’d bet just about all of them were as good and kind as James and Mary.
None as Arthur, though. The way he had laughed at her dumb jokes. It was so sweet he did that, even though he probably hadn’t understood half, at least.
The way he’d accepted her stubbornness, even when any other man would have given up on her.
Oh, man, she’d loved him to the end. She hoped beyond hope that he’d known.
He knew. Isabel, he knew; he knew your love for him was true. You gave up your life to save the son, and that then your mission in Camelot was done.
Oh, well then, that was just peachy.
She didn’t know what was going to happen next. She only hoped, badly, that she got to keep her memories, no matter where she was heading next.
And then something strange. It was almost like she felt banging against her SUV. She thought she felt hands grabbing her, and then an arm wrapped around her waist. It felt amazingly familiar. And that arm pulled her up, up, up, out of the water.
The next thing she knew, she was coughing and choking and spitting out water.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
She opened her eyes.
“Ma’am, we’re here to help. Welcome back. You are going to be all right.”
She was staring up into deep green eyes, eyes she had first spotted in a forest long ago and very far away. His hair was dripping, his clothing soaked.
Her hand raised to touch his face. “Arthur?” she whispered.
He sat back. “Yes, how did you know that?”
“That rescue was beyond excellent, Father. She looks okay to me.”
Isabel turned her head. “And he is Mordred, right?”
Mordred laughed. “I’m sorry to say, yes. How did she know, Father?”
“I have no clue, son.”
“You never did, you big oaf.”
Arthur just stared at her. Then he brushed her wet hair back from her cheeks.
“Oh, my lands, Father. She is the woman you dream of constantly. Your description of her . . . it matches exactly.”
“There isn’t a chance your name is Isabel, is there?” Arthur asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“Good gods. Welcome back to the land of the living, Isabel.”
“I’m glad to be here” she said. “By the way, where is here?”
“Grand Lake, in Oklahoma, ma’am”
“Isabel. My name is Isabel.”
Arthur checked her neck and then lifted her into his arms. “It is very good to meet you, Isabel. Now let’s get you to the hospital.”
“What’s wrong with Mordred’s arm?” she asked, seeing that it was in a sling.
“He was foolish enough to step between me and a hunting arrow when we were hiking last weekend.”
“Of course. Did you catch the idiot hunting with a bow and arrow?”
“Our friend James did,” Mordred said. “Practically beat the man to a bloody pulp. It isn’t even bow-hunting season.”
“Of course.”
“This is really uncanny. My father even dreamed one time that he’d have to perform CPR on you.”
“Mordred?” Arthur said. “Can it.”
“Thank you. But I really don’t want to go to the hospital,” Isabel said. “Thanks to you, I feel much better now.”
“I’m pretty sure Mary won’t allow you to walk away. Or James. They are the EMTs waiting to offer you a chauffeur-driven ambulance ride to County General.”
“Of course. Where are Gwen and Lance?”
He stopped. “How could you know these names, Isabel?”
Good question. “I had this dream. This really great dream.”
“I know the feeling. Gwen is likely at her shop.”
“Let me guess. A florist shop?”
“My God. This is becoming beyond weird.”
“And Lance?”
“And Lance is probably operating on a patient as we speak. Orthopedic surgeon.”
Isabel chuckled. “Of course. He was always really good with sharp objects.”
“Let’s go, King Arthur,” Mary called. “The woman needs treatment.”
“King Arthur?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “A very stupid name they gave me years ago when I was named chief of the fire department. They think it’s funny. I find it a little irritating. But just try to stop them. I’m telling you, I have no idea when I lost control of my people.”
Isabel grinned. “I’ve always felt that the sign of a good leader is when the people who work for him feel comfortable teasing him.”
He shook his head. “This is so strange. You said something close to that to me in my dream once.”
“Strange in a really cool way, though, don’t you think, Father? It’s like fate.”
“This is going to sound like a bad pick-up line, Isabel, but I’m going to say it regardless.”
“Say it.”
“Have we met?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
She grinned. “It appears we have,” she said.
“I would really like to meet again so we can figure out how we know each other. As soon as you’re better, maybe dinner?” Then he shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m even asking. Trust me, I don’t make a habit of asking women I rescue to go out with me.”
“Good. Then I’m the lucky one. But a question first.”
“All right.”
“How do you feel about picked eel?”
He frowned. “I’ve never heard of it. But it sounds disgusting.”
“Excellent answer. Dinner it is.”
“Is she the woman of your dreams, Father?” Mordred asked.
He looked down at her. “She could very well be, son. Although I don’t remember the woman in my dreams ever being quite this wet. Somehat wet once, but not this wet. Tell me, Isabel, do you believe in fate?”
“Oh, most definitely,” she answered, then realizing that that little dunk in the lake took more out of her than she’d thought, she laid her head against his chest.
Yes, I believe in fate. With a little help from my friends. I can’t thank you enough, Viviane.
I told you to trust, Isabel, to trust me that all would be well.
And Merlin, how is he?
I am happy to report, as well as me. And now, Isabel, move forward with your life. I am thinking that perhaps you’ll make a good wife. I thank you so much for all you have done; I believe that this day, all you hold dear has won. It is time, Isabel, for us to part ways, but I leave you knowing happiness is yours for the rest of your days.
I am really going to miss you, Viviane. Thanks for the adventure.
But sadly, she got no answer.
Arthur laid her down on the ambulance gurney.
Standing on either side of it were Mary and James, and Isabel nearly started crying with happiness. “Boy, am I glad to see you guys.”
“Now that’s something we don’t hear every day, is it, James?” Mary said as she laid a blanket over her patient.
“Sure isn’t.”
“What’s your name, ma’am?” Mary asked, peering at her closely.
“Her name is Isabel,” Arthur said.
Both Mary and James went still. “Isabel? As in the name of the woman you keep dreaming about?” Mary asked, looking at her even more intently.
It became abundantly clear that Arthur had been bothered by these dreams enough that he’d described them in some detail to his closest friends.
“We’re going to try to figure that out. I’m riding in back with her.”
“Honestly, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Amuse us,” James said.
They lifted her up and into the ambulance, and then Mary climbed up and locked the gurney into place.
“How are you at hair, Mary?” Isabel asked.
Mary stared down at her and then burst out laughing. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
“Pretty good. I cut the hair of all of these doofuses. Why, would you like me to cut yours someday?”