Steam (Legends Saga Book 3) (27 page)

Ireland

“Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out on my ridiculously small front stoop,” Ireland bounced on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to fight off her rash of goosebumps from the chilling evening air, “but I can think of better places to watch the sunset. Like my equally small back deck that has the added luxury of hard plastic chairs.”

“Be patient, woman!” Noah playfully barked, with a nervous chuckle. Glancing up at the shades of gold and scarlet zigzagging across the sky, he nodded as if signaled by the streaks of color. Eyebrows raising, he filled his lungs to capacity and exhaled through puckered lips. “Do you remember this spot?”

Ireland glanced one way and then the other, feeling she was missing a key element from this painfully awkward situation. “My front door? Yes. I remember it whenever I want to enter or exit my home.”

“You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” Eyes narrowing, Noah’s lips curled in that sideways smile that made her weak in the knees.

“If there’s a script I’m supposed to be following here, I didn’t get it,” Ireland laughed, her body convulsing in another shiver. “And since I’m failing at my part, how about if we go inside where it’s warm?”

“Maybe this will warm you up.” Bending down, Noah pulled a stainless steel thermos from the satchel at his feet and handed it to her. “It’s coffee, which you threw at me the first time we met … in this very spot.”

The contents were hot enough to warm her hands through the steel shell as Ireland accepted his offering. “I wasn’t very nice that day.” She cringed at the memory.

The string tied around the thermos completely evaded her until Noah tugged it taut by dropping down on one knee. The light reflected off a gleaming trinket that slid down the string into Noah’s waiting palm.

“Maybe you’ll think of a way to make it up to me.” The sun at high noon on a cloudless day couldn’t compare to the light in Noah’s beaming smile.

Holding out his palm, he presented her with a pear-shaped, black diamond set against a band of stark white-gold.

“Ireland, I love you. I need this,” he gestured from her to him and back again with his free hand, “to be forever. Now, I have a question to ask you and, for the sake of my heart and fragile male ego, I pray to God you say yes …”

Noah

“Ireland, I love you.” Noah fell to his knees, the medallion dangling from his outstretched hand. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked. The ache of uttering each word carved out his heart with a dull and rusted blade. “I can’t, for a second, think that this will be good-bye forever. But I can’t watch you become the thing that you hate. I love you too much for that.”

His chin fell to his chest. A fresh onslaught of tears rained from his face and soaked the ground. When he found his voice once more, it broke with the audible shattering of his heart.

“Horseman,” he rasped, forcing his gaze up to punish himself further, “I order you to stop.”

Ireland

It was a simple ceremony performed on the Sleepy Hollow Bridge—because the dark and twisted irony of that was too good to pass up. Malachi officiated. Something about that seemed off somehow, but Ireland couldn’t put her finger on why.

Dressed in a gray suit with a white dress shirt underneath, Noah looked more handsome than she’d ever seen him. Keeping his top two shirt buttons unfastened, he achieved the perfect balance of casually sexy. Ireland chose a strapless gown with a beaded bodice that tapered into layers of airy chiffon. Hidden beneath it she wore her scuffed motorcycle boots. Anything else would’ve been out of character.

There were so many faces, so many details, that they all bled together in an undecipherable melody. She knew she
should
remember every moment, but knowing she was happy was more than enough.

“I needed them to see you,” Rip said, his voice against her ear. How long he’d been standing behind her, she didn’t know. She was just glad to have him there. “For what you truly are.”

“They already know!” Ireland laughed as Noah swept her up in the cradle of his arms. “I’m the girl that will haunt their dreams the remainder of their days.”

Pantomiming a scary monster face, she erupted in a fit of giggles.

“That you are, my dear,” Rip agreed, the shadow of sorrow that blew across his features was missed by the blushing bride.

Tipping her head back, Ireland closed her eyes. “Forever isn’t long enough,” she whispered to her new husband—secretly wondering if she would ever get used to that word.

“Then we’ll find each other in every life and have a thousand forevers,” Noah murmured into the crook of her neck and twirled her around, the skirt of her gown fanning out around them.

Giving herself over to the rush, Ireland leaned back and threw her arms out wide. Without an ounce of fear or hesitation she fell …

fell …

fell …

into that blissful oblivion.

Noah

Watching Regen skid to a halt shattered Noah in a way he never knew possible. The last of the Roanoke survivors filed through the portal. It would close at any moment. After that he would have to rise from his knees and move on … without her.
That
he didn’t know how to do. How did he leave this spot and put even an inch of distance between himself and where they had last been together?

Here, she had been alive.

Here, she had been his.

If he walked away, she became exactly that … his “had been.” His “what if.”

Someday he knew he would purge himself of all the tears and sorrow that she deserved. In that moment he found even gasping a breath without her to be a herculean task.

Through everything they had been through, Noah had started to think of Ridley as a brother. Seeing him now, huddled on the ground with his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, Noah knew he would never forgive him. In Ridley’s eyes he would carry as much blame in this as if he had delivered the fatal death blow himself.

Neither realized they were part of a new brotherhood of sorts. One made up of those that had watched Ireland Crane ride into their lives as an unstoppable force that the monster within her paled in comparison to.

A pregnant pause followed the last man passing through the portal. Far too soon, the gateway rippled around the edges. Shrinking. Fading. Noah launched to his feet. Rising onto his toes, he leaned one way then the other, his soul screaming out to Ireland.

Look up, baby, just one last time. Please, let me see you
.

He had no way to know that at that same moment, within the portal, Rip was whispering in her ear, “Can’t … hold you much longer,” his essence flickered with the exhaustion of willing her upright, “I just need them to see you … for the hero you truly are.”

With her last ounce of strength, Ireland raised her head and granted Noah the final glimpse he longed for—even though it would
never
be enough. As the town crumbled behind her, a sweet smile of serenity chased the last traces of the Hessian’s hold from her features. Closing her eyes, Ireland Crane fell …

fell …

fell …

… from her last fateful ride.

Epilogue

Roanoke marina was closed for the night. The last fisherman had reeled in his line. The last dingy had been secured to the wharf. The only sound came from the security guard booth where the late shift guard on duty had left the small analog television tuned to
Night Court
reruns on
Nick at Night
while he finished his rounds.

No one heard the ominous chorus of hoofbeats thundering in from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. No one saw the bubbles that surfaced from the depths of the reef. Water churned. Fish scattered. In an eruption of salt water and sea weed, a formidable stallion launched from the depths. Ink black hooves connected with the deck in a loud clap of thunder. Rising on his hind legs, he pawed at the sky, a guttural whiny shaking his sides. Grinning at his antics, his rider drew the hood of her cloak up to retreat beneath its shadows. A slight cue to his sides and the two rocketed forward at a full gallop through the sleeping wharf.

The bearded man materialized in their wake. In his palm he weighed a copper treasure he had claimed before the world collapsed around them. Closing his fingers around the trinket, he peered after the girl that taught him that even the most deeply rooted legends can be unraveled by those strong of will. For her, he would watch forever and ensure that her final heroic deed would
never
be tarnished.

He spoke the words to the night, not of threat but of victory for all she had accomplished, “The Horseman is unending, her presence shan’t lessen. She broke the curse,” a victorious smile spread across his face as he twirled the end of his beard around his finger, “and became …
a legend
.”