His sudden smile held a warmth that made her heart ache. "My essence is a hawk. It's not magic, but what I am. Eleanor could never take that away from me."
She nodded and shifted her feet slightly. It was hard to keep her distance, hard not to reach out and touch him, just one more time. Lord, they were acting like casual acquaintances, not two people who had battled against a common foe and won. And they certainly weren't acting like two people who had shared their hearts and their souls in one brief night of love. But maybe that was for the best. He didn't want her in his life—didn't want anyone he cared about placed in danger. Even if she didn't like his decision, she understood it. She'd made the same resolution after Brian's death, and it had taken her six long years to see her mistake. Retreating had gained her nothing but loneliness. It wasn't until she'd met Jon that she had truly understood.
But his retreat was emotional rather than physical. Any decision to change had to come from him, from his heart, not from anything she said or did. She glanced down at her feet for a minute, blinking away the sudden sting of tears. She would not cry. This wasn't a goodbye—just a temporary break. And whether it took ten hours or ten years, she would wait for him to come back to her. And he would come back. He might be able to defy his heart, but he couldn't defy destiny. They were meant to be together. Her dreams had told her that much. She dropped the pack from her shoulder, pulled the ring off her finger and held it out to him. "This belongs to you."
His gaze didn't waver from hers. "Keep it," he said softly. "I have no further use for it."
She could see the turmoil deep in the depths of his blue eyes. It bolstered her hope that he would come back to her. She wrapped her fingers around the ring, holding it tight. "Then I guess this is goodbye." He nodded. "I had your brakes fixed, by the way. Didn't want you driving off a cliff on the way home."
"Thank you." Her voice came out little more than a constricted whisper. She swallowed, trying to ease the ache at the back her throat.
He shifted against the car and re-crossed his arms. She saw his fingers flex, then clench into a fist. "Take care of yourself, Maddie."
"You too." She hesitated, wanting to kiss him, wanting to hold him, but knowing if she did, she would plead with him to let her stay with him. Biting her lip, she bent down and picked up her pack.
Everything she'd ever wanted in life stood a bare two feet away, and she was walking away from it. She licked her lips and forced a smile. "Don't be a stranger." Don 't let this goodbye be forever.
He made no reply. Taking a deep breath, she tore her gaze from his and walked around to the driver's side of the truck.
The engine started the first time. Jon stepped away as she released the handbrake. She could feel his gaze on her, causing a hot ache that burned clear through to her soul. She bit her lip, battling the urge to get out, wrap her arms around him and never let him go. The gears ground sharply as she shifted them too quickly. She didn't care. She had to leave before he saw the tears on her cheeks.
She planted her foot on the gas pedal and sped out of the parking lot. Her last sight of Jon was through the rear view mirror—a lone, unmoving figure, watching her leave.
Epilogue
Maddie leaned back and wiped the sweat from her eyes. On summer days like this, the heat in the greenhouses became almost unbearable. She reached for the water bottle. It was almost noon. Evan and Jayne would be here soon to help her pack. She needed to go in and make lunch.
But not just yet. She turned, studying the empty greenhouse. Even though she'd sold the last of her roses over two months ago, their scent still lingered. All the tables and equipment had been stacked in the far corner and the building echoed. Somehow, it seemed sad.
Three days from now she would leave her haven and never come back. Sometimes she still regretted her decision to sell, but the place was far too big for one person to manage and always had been. It had just taken a long time for her to admit it—and a long time for hope to die.
She twisted around, studying her old ramshackle home. The roof still needed fixing, and the house needed a good coat of paint. Even so, it was a home designed for a family, a place for children to run wild and free. If not hers, then someone else's.
A year and a half had passed since she'd last seen Jon. Somewhere along the line, she'd stopped expecting him to appear on her doorstep. It still hurt, but it wasn't the agonizing feeling of loss it had been.
She took another sip of water, then sighed and sat cross-legged on the sandy ground again. A small circle of rocks was in front of her. In the middle of it were a rather dead looking match, a severely melted candle and a log. She relaced the match with a new one, sticking it into the sand so it stood upright.
Then she narrowed her gaze and focused on the log. Deep down inside her, the embers stirred to life. She reached for the flames, directing them to the log, trying to control their force. After several seconds, the log burst into flame. Good. Narrowing the focus of her power, she glanced at the candle. The wick leapt to life, the flame leaping high. Now for the hard one. She licked her lips, then tightened her grip on the burning rush of energy and sent it toward the match.
The match became a fireball and exploded.
"Damn it to hell," she muttered. Big flames she'd learned to control, but the smaller flames were proving more fickle. But at least she'd learned some control. Enough, anyway, that she longer feared killing herself—or anyone else. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. Time for a break, she thought, and poured the rest of her water over the flames, putting them out again. She rose and headed out into the bright summer sunshine. Shading her eyes against the sun, she stopped and squinted up at the sky. The hawk was back, gliding leisurely along the thermals.
She smiled. The bird had first appeared several months after her arrival back home, and she'd seen it intermittently ever since. Over the last few days, it had been visible almost every day. It wasn't Jon, just a hawk enjoying its freedom and the warm summer breezes. But deep down, she couldn't help thinking that maybe it was some sort of omen.
She might have given up hope, but she hadn't yet given up on a miracle. The kitchen was cool and dark when she got inside. Sighing in relief, she stripped off her damp T-shirt and ran upstairs for a quick shower. Ten minutes later she heard the back door slam. Maddie grimaced. Trust Jayne to be early. Grabbing her hairbrush, she leaned out of the bathroom doorway. "Be down in five! Help yourself to something to eat and drink." The pantry door squeaked open, and she smiled. Evan, no doubt investigating what she had to eat. Jayne had been complaining that of late she just couldn't keep enough food in the house to feed him, and it wasn't hard to see why. He'd grown a good foot in the last year and showed no signs of stopping. He was already as tall as his father.
She frowned. Jayne and Steve had split up almost a year ago, and the change in her sister was amazing. She'd once again become the vibrant, outgoing personality who had dominated most of Maddie's childhood—only this time that personality was edged with compassion and warmth.
But Steve was making noises about wanting to get back together—something Maddie knew Jayne wanted. She just hoped that if Jayne did allow Steve back into her life, it was in her own time and under her own rules. She'd hate to see her sister retreat into her shell again.
One good thing had come from the split, though. Steve had stopped treating Evan, and to a lesser extent Maddie, as some kind of freaks who needed psychological help. He'd even begun reading up on psychic abilities in an effort to try to help his son understand and control his gifts. It was something none of them had expected. Evan was speaking to his dad again, and Maddie's dreams no longer warned of him walking away.
She ducked across the hall to her bedroom. Grabbing a T-shirt and some shorts, she quickly dressed.
Still brushing her hair, she padded down the stairs and along the hall. "Hope you picked up some more boxes, because I'm just about-" The jeans-clad figure turned as she entered the kitchen, and Maddie came to an abrupt halt. Jon!
Her heart skipped several beats. Lord, how often had she dreamed of this happening? Every waking hour in those first few months of separation had been filled with the fantasy of walking into a room and finding him there. But it was a dream that had gradually died. Was she dreaming now?