Summary: Chocolate, poetry and Adam…what more could you want for a Winter’s tale. Adam is in his final year at Harvard and visits Boston where he meets a very special young lady. WIP title: A Season of Chocolate and Poetry.

Rated: T       Wordcount: 59, 991

Chapter 1…Hazel’s Story

The shingled rooftops of Cambridge were softened by a blanket of snow, once slicing a wound in the sky with their austere industrial peaks, now they were cushioned under snow falling upon them like confetti sheared free from some snow fairy’s wings. White and glittering like diamonds was Lady Winter’s bridal gown, abundantly she spread her wealth over the trees and cobblestone streets as the exhale of her wintry breath turned the nearby Charles River into a portrait of frozen beauty.

Travelling on a quiet street, a carriage stopped in front of a brownstone house, the two chestnut horses’ warm breath puffed tendrils of steam from their flared nostrils as the young man exited the carriage. He was tall, dark-haired and classically handsome as he walked to the front door, the snow crunching like sugar beneath his black leather boots.

His confident knock on the door was answered promptly by the butler Mr. Abrams.

“Mr. Cartwright, come in,” he said as he escorted the Harvard student into the main room.

“Adam! I’m so glad you could make it,” Professor Meadows said as he clasped Adam’s hand in a firm handshake.

“Professor Meadows! I’m so happy to be here tonight. I wasn’t sure that I would since the stage was delayed leaving Denver, but by the grace of God I made it to Boston just this afternoon,” Adam said in his warm and friendly manner. His green eyes were alight with the excitement of his trip and the relief of arriving back at Harvard University in Cambridge to attend the New Years Party at Professor Meadows’ house.

Adam had spent the past three weeks in Nevada. He was grateful that Professor Meadows had managed to arrange giving Adam the three weeks so he could go home and be with his family over the holidays.

It was a Christmas to remember, but Adam had to start on his journey back just before New Years Eve. Professor Meadows was having a special party on January 6^th for all his students that would be graduating that Spring and Adam was one of them.

Adam looked around Professor Meadows’ grand room, at the wide mahogany staircase curving upward against the far wall. There were lanterns scattered throughout the room with sprigs of evergreen at the base of each one. In the center of the room were tables groaning under the weight of the food they displayed so extravagantly. There were baked beans in crystal dishes, lobster rolls and apple cider donuts on another serving platter along with a big serving pot of clam chowder.

Then there was the dessert table…Adam had never seen so many chocolate dishes before! Each plate had its own label in front of it, with the name of the confection written in fancy script. There were trays of heart-shaped chocolate cookies and chocolate-dipped fruit, there were chocolate truffles of every flavor imaginable, as well as hazelnut chocolate shortbread laid out on a floral bone china platter and a steaming pot of mocha chai hot chocolate.

Most of the students Adam recognized. He saw one of his dorm room-mates, Ashton, dancing with his new fiancé Melody. After a year-long courtship, Ashton finally asked Melody to be his wife. Adam couldn’t be happier for them. He also saw his other dorm-mates Brian and John with their respective dates. The ladies were dressed in an array of vibrant colors, from the blushing rose petal print of Melody’s dress to the green and yellow calico of Sandra’s dress to the sky blue that Leslie wore. The ladies looked as pretty and ornamented as a carousal as they danced with their gentlemen dates.

“Well Adam, how are you doing? Enjoying yourself?” Professor Meadows asked as he approached the young man, aware that Adam’s ever curious eyes were taking in the New Year’s party extravaganza.

Professor Melvin Meadows was a middle-aged man, slightly bald with his remaining dark hair abundantly sprinkled with silver. His brown tweed suit brought out the sparkle in his blue eyes. Adam thought how ageless he looked as he turned to face his well-respected teacher.

“Yes, it’s an excellent party. Very splendid indeed. I’ve never seen such a vast assortment of chocolate before,” Adam said as he helped himself to another hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookie.

“Yes indeed,” Professor Meadows chuckled. “They are compliments from my daughter Hazel. For weeks, she has been planning the dessert menu and then baked most of them herself. She fancies herself as a chocolate connoisseur…along with being a poet.”

“Did you know that chocolate – especially hot chocolate – has nutrients that calms the nervous system and reduce anxiety? Chocolate has many virtues…Hazel keeps a variety of chocolate in her cupboard and is always creating a new concoction. Her specialty is hot chocolate. Tonight’s mocha chai hot chocolate is her latest creation.”

“Is Hazel here tonight? I would very much like to meet her,” Adam inquired. He knew that Professor Meadows had a daughter, nineteen years old, just two years younger than Adam. Though he knew of her, he had yet to meet her. No one had ever met Hazel that he knew of. Though he hated to listen to gossip, rumour was that Hazel was some kind of recluse, a hermit who never left her room in the west wing of her father’s house. But Adam was too intelligent and clever to put any stock in any secondhand talk. He preferred to form his own opinion of people by their own merit, firsthand.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Professor Meadows said a little uneasily. “Hazel is not comfortable around people. She gets nervous around crowds and has severe panic attacks. She’s always had a nervous disposition…among other things.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Adam said, the words slow and drawn out as his thinking intensified to find a solution. “Would it be possible if I met Hazel, not at a party, but to call on her in a proper manner?”

“I don’t think that would be possible either, Adam. Oh, I’ve always liked you, please don’t think that I have anything against you. I really don’t like talking about Hazel’s infliction…but I know you’re not one to spread gossip or talk about others…”

“Infliction, sir?” Adam asked softly, his black brows furrowed.

“Yes, infliction,” Professor Meadows began with a heavy breath. “I know you are a gentleman, Adam, so I trust you will not repeat what I’m about to say.”

“Hazel was born with a clubfoot. Her right one. She’s a cripple…”

“Hazel can’t walk?” Adam asked, concern highlighting the infinite depth of his eyes.

“No – well, yes – she can walk. She hobbles around with a cane and gets by adequately enough to take care of her personal needs. But she’s hindered by her clubfoot.”

“As a child, we couldn’t send her to school. We tried to…we talked to the teacher and she agreed to let Hazel sit at the back of the classroom. But after two weeks, Ms. Shannon paid us a visit. She said she couldn’t have Hazel at school anymore. She was just too much of a distraction to the other children.” Here, Professor Meadows had to stop to take a few deep breaths, his hands rubbing his temples as if to blot out a bad memory.

Adam remained quiet and waited patiently for the Professor to bring himself to continue with his painful narrative.

All the party guests faded away for Adam – the band music, the dancing and laughter and the food – it all faded away into an inconsequential circumstance. All that mattered to Adam now was Professor Meadows and the heartbreaking story of his daughter Hazel.

“The other children…they were so cruel to Hazel. They were too busy staring and gawking at her, too busy whispering and laughing at her to pay attention to Ms. Shannon. They would even put their feet out to trip her as she walked by them with her cane…then they would laugh even harder when she fell.”

“So many times, Hazel would come home with bruises and skinned knees. I asked her what happened. She would just say “I fell Papa”. I thought it was just her clumsiness due to her clubfoot…I didn’t realize how bad it really was until Ms. Shannon’s visit.”

“She also told us that it wasn’t just in the classroom that they would pick on Hazel, but outside at recess it intensified. They would trip Hazel even more and call her the most terrible names. ‘Freak.’ ‘Ugly.’ ‘Troll.’ They would call my little girl…this is also what they called her as they would spit on her. The more she fell down and cried, the more they laughed,” Professor Meadows’ voice finally broke as he tried – unsuccessfully – to choke back a sob. Tears glistened in his pale blue eyes as he looked into Adam’s strickened face.

“I’ll tell you, Adam, I don’t know how children can be so cruel to another just for being different,” Professor Meadows said sadly. Adam thought how old the Professor suddenly looked. The years of fear and worry were deeply etched in his face.

“I don’t know, sir. Children can be so cruel to others who are different. But being children is no excuse. Their parents should’ve taught them better,” Adam said. “All I can tell you is that if I was a student in such a class, no one would dare pick on and make fun of Hazel when I was around. I would’ve made sure of it!” Adam finished vehemently, anger and outrage flashed in the emerald fire of his eyes.

The Professor smiled kindly at Adam and patted his arm. “You have always been an inherent gentleman, Adam, even as a youngster. If only more people – whether child or adult – were like you the world would be a much kinder place. Your father must be very proud.”

“Thank-you sir,” Adam said, humbled under Professor Meadows’ praise. He cleared his throat, then asked “and so you took Hazel out of school?”

“Yes, yes, Ms. Shannon didn’t want to be bothered with such a disabled student, and I thought it was for the best after I was enlightened to what was going on behind Hazel’s tears and constant bruises.”

“I home-schooled Hazel, bringing home books from the library. I taught her to read and write, though she still has trouble deciphering her numbers. But she loves reading and even has her own personal library in her rooms in the west wing. She especially loves poetry and is a poet herself too,” Professor Meadows said proudly.

“Hazel gets very anxious around people, as you can imagine. She feels awkward at parties because she can’t dance so she never attends them. Though Hazel is a very pretty girl, the boys never expressed any interest in her, besides just rudely staring. It’s so hard to get her to leave her room, but she does go for short walks…”

“Oh yes, Adam. My Hazel can get out on her own. I even had a pair of special shoes custom-made for her so she could,” Professor Meadows said upon seeing the look of concern on Adam’s handsome face. “She likes to go for walks in the early morning before many people are around. She knows enough to stop and rest when she needs to. But she goes alone…always alone,” Professor Meadows sighed sadly.

“She likes to go to the park by the Charles River. She says when she sits on the bench surrounded by nature she can hear the trees “talk” to her and the river seems to whisper her name. Hazel must be part fey herself; I’ve seen sparrows fly to her and eat right out of her hand. Yes, that daughter of mine can charm the animals of the forest just like Orpheus of myth charmed the wild beasts with his music. Hazel says she can feel all of nature welcoming her like a long-lost friend,” Professor Meadows said with obvious pride.

“You haven’t mentioned her mother…” Adam said softly.

“Oh, Alice, she’s of no consequence,” the Professor said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Alice had no patience or understanding for Hazel’s physical deformity. In fact, she seemed to blame her for it, for not being the perfect daughter she wanted. All of Hazel’s schooling fell to me. Alice wanted nothing to do with what she called “coddling an imbecile”. I even heard her say to Hazel on her death-bed that she was never what she wanted in a daughter. She died from a fever soon after. Hazel was only ten years old.”

Adam was moved by Hazel’s story. His heart was touched by hearing of this very special girl. “It must be very lonely for her always being alone, to be ostracized from society in such a cruel way, to be made an outcast just for being born different, inflicted with a clubfoot.”

“Ah yes, it’s not fair and very much cruel, but society has a habit of making outcasts of those who are different…especially the mentally ill and those with a physical deformity such as my Hazel,” Professor Meadows said, his insight Adam knew, was gained through years of painful experience.

“But it’s not right and most definitely wrong,” Adam said, outrage in his voice.

“You will get no argument from me, dear boy,” the Professor said with a heavy sigh. “It’s not Hazel’s fault she was born this way…but she’s the one who is paying the price. If only there was a way…” he let his last words trail behind him as he wandered away from Adam and the difficult discussion to see to his other guests.

 

Chapter 2…Adam Meets Hazel

The soft flickering honeyed light from dozens of candles illumined the parlor where the guests retired after the festivities of the New Years’ party. Professor Meadows had announced that there would be a poetry reading by Shirley Anne Godfrey, one of Boston society’s most sought-after lady poets.

Her auburn tresses were coiffed immaculately on top of her head with tiny ringlets framing her oval face. Miss Godfrey’s lilac dress was most becoming and accentuated her cinched waist.

The men were sipping brandy from crystal glasses and the ladies had their pink champagne. Adam stood in the entryway to the parlor with his brandy. He just wasn’t in the mood for Shirley Anne’s reading of Lord Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott”. Even as he heard the words:

 

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web of colors gay.

She has heard a whisper say

A curse is on her if she stay…

 

Adam could only think of Hazel, always alone in her room creating her own magic with her chocolate creations, weaving to life friends from her poetry, friends for a lonely girl who had no other.

 

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott

 

Adam was intelligent enough not to believe in curses, but he wondered if Hazel felt cursed, always stuck in her room with no friends because people couldn’t see past her physical deformity. Adam wondered if Hazel was “half-sick of shadows” like the Lady of Shalott?

Suddenly, Adam saw a shadowy motion in his peripheral vision, so he quickly turned to the right. Was there someone hiding behind the potted evergreen tree? He was sure he saw something or someone. He took a few steps toward it…then the evergreen boughs rustled in a flurry as the shadowy figure quickly retreated and moved away. Adam heard the awkward shuffling of steps padding back down the hall.

“Hey, wait, who are you?” Adam called as he hurried after the shambling shadowy figure. As he turned the corner, he saw a door quietly close down the hallway.

Adam, the private person that he was, hated when people pried into other people’s affairs; he never wanted to be thought of as one of them as he hated such behavior in others. But his curiousity was aroused and if there was an intruder on the prowl in Professor Meadows’ house, Adam had to find out and inform him of the intrusion. So, he quietly walked down the dimly lit hallway to the door.

He stood at the door, listening, but he didn’t hear anything. Even Time itself seemed to be frozen as Adam stood outside the door. Was Time holding her breath waiting for him to act? It felt like it to the poet in him. So, Adam acted.

He knocked on the door. “Hello,” he called. Silence. “Hello?” he called again. Silence again.

“Hello? I just wanted to talk to you…I mean you no harm,” Adam continued to call through the door. “I promise”, his voice was a beacon of strength, as reassuring as a lighthouse casting its light outward, illuminating the dark.

Silence, then Adam heard the latch on the door unhitch, letting the door to open inward of its own accord a few inches. Cautiously, Adam pushed the door open a little more. It met no resistance, so Adam pushed it open even more and stepped inside the entryway.

There she was, a slender slip of a girl backing away with a tremble as Adam stood on her threshold. It looked like she wished she could melt into the shadows and disappear. Adam’s heart constricted as a lump rose up in his throat, choking him with the look of fear on the slender girl’s face.

“Hazel?” Adam asked softly. All she could do was stand there and nod, not speaking.

“Please don’t be afraid, honey,” Adam spoke softly as he would to a frightened bird with a broken wing. He was hoping his deep voice, lowered melodiously, would calm her trembling and bring comfort to the wounds in her soul he knew were there.

“I saw the shadow of someone watching the guests at the poetry reading in the parlor. I thought it was an intruder,” Adam explained.

“I wanted to hear Miss Shirley read “The Lady of Shalott”. It’s one of my favorite poems. And I like seeing the ladies dresses…and the dancing. I wanted to see the dancing,” Hazel softly spoke. Her voice was sweet and warm like the first breath of Spring.

“Hazel,” Adam said her name like a caress. “I’m Adam Cartwright. I’m a student of your father’s…I would very much like to stay and talk with you – if it’s alright.”

“I’ve heard Papa mention you,” Hazel said, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. “You want to talk…with me?” Hazel said this as if she couldn’t fathom why such an exquisitely handsome young man would want to visit with her.

“Very much so,” Adam replied, his eyes were warm and friendly and sincere as he looked into Hazel’s blue-grey ones. Hazel felt like he was looking into her soul…and he didn’t shy away from what he saw.

With a small tentative smile, Hazel nodded and walked – or rather limped – into the main room of her apartment with Adam behind her. The light cast from the oil lamps in the room was soft, but still it was enough for Adam to see Hazel clearly.

She was of a slender build with skin kissed fairer than a field of lilies, her long dusky blonde hair was pulled back with a simple silver comb adorning each side of her head, but still some stray tendrils escaped and framed her heart-shaped face like a halo of burnished gold. In the soft light, Adam could see a touch of red as if her hair had been splashed with rose water. But her most expressive feature which drew Adam to her were her eyes. Blue-grey with depths as infinite as the sea.

“I need to sit down,” Hazel said in her soft-spoken voice.

“Of course,” Adam said as he moved to help Hazel to the antique rose-hued cushioned chair.

“I’m alright, I have trouble standing for long, but I’m alright,” Hazel said as she settled herself in the chair.

“Please, have a seat Mr. Cartwright,” Hazel said as she motioned to the other chair beside the coffee table.

“Thank-you,” Adam said. When he was finally able to look away from Hazel’s soulful eyes, he noticed Hazel’s forest green dress, how it accentuated her graceful curves and flowed down in crimped pleats to her ankles. She was barefoot, which was a shock to Adam as society ladies would never reveal their ankles – not to mention their bare feet – to anyone, especially a gentleman caller.

But Hazel was different. Ostracized from society as she always had been and living alone for so long, Hazel wasn’t encumbered by society’s pressures to conform, she hadn’t been repressed by the trend of fashion nor by the will of others – in short, Hazel was a free spirit – refreshingly so.

Adam’s eyes wandered to Hazel’s clubfoot. It was her right one as the Professor said. Her foot was twisted to the side, turning inward so that the bottom of her foot was facing sideways. The outside edge of Hazel’s foot was red and calloused from her walking on it. Her right ankle looked small and weak too, her right calf was clearly underdeveloped and much smaller than her unaffected left leg.

Hazel self-consciously rearranged the skirt of her dress to hide her deformity. Adam looked away; he didn’t mean to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Would you like some hot chocolate, Mr. Cartwright?” Hazel asked as she suddenly got up and made her way to her small kitchen. Upon seeing her walking, her right leg actually looked a few inches shorter than her left. Adam’s heart constricted again at what this young girl had to endure and had already endured in her young life.

“If you were going to make it for yourself too, then yes…and it would please me very much if you would call me Adam,” he said.

Hazel turned to him with a smile. “Alright. Adam.” There was just something about his eyes that drew her to him. She had never seen a man’s eyes that possessed such goodness reflected in their liquid depths, such an inherent warmth Hazel could feel kindling within them that they made her feel warm and slightly off balance – more so than usual – and it was not from her clubfoot this time.

“I never drink coffee as the caffeine makes me sick…but I seem to handle tea alright. So, I drink tea in the daytime, and at night…well, the night is my creative time when I write poetry or create new chocolate recipes and so at night I drink my hot chocolate. Poetry and hot chocolate seem to go together. The perfect married couple,” Hazel said in her carefree way as she poured the already made peppermint hot chocolate that was simmering in a pot on the stove into two bone china cups decorated with blue roses.

“Tonight, it’s one of my favorites, peppermint hot chocolate,” Hazel said as she carefully handed one of the steaming cups to Adam.

“Thank-you,” he said as he favored Hazel with one of his best smiles.

Then, as if noticing her apartment for the first time, Adam’s eyes scanned the room. The far wall was covered in bookshelves, from the floor to the ceiling was all books.

“I have never seen so many books before – not outside of a library or a bookstore,” Adam said in almost childlike awe of having just received a favorite toy.

“Books are my friends, my ever-faithful companions. I couldn’t live without them,” Hazel said lovingly, but with a touch of sadness.

“Go ahead, Adam. Have a look at them. They are the collection of my life’s journey. They take me to places I could never go any other way, they let me experience things I know I will never experience without them.”

Adam was heading toward the book shelves but stopped when he heard the note of yearning and sadness in Hazel’s voice. Turning toward her, he reached out and lightly cupped the side of her face with his hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb. His eyes never broke contact with hers. Hazel smiled her appreciation at Adam for his tender gesture, her small hand over his where it still laid against her left cheek.

“Thank-you Adam,” she softly said, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Come, Hazel. Show me your library,” Adam said with a tender smile as his hand left her face and taking her hand that was covering his, they went over to the wall of books.

“You have so many subjects here. Fiction. Poetry. Nature. History. Mythology. Religion. Have you read all these books?” Adam spoke appraisingly as his hands scanned the shelves, caressing the spines with a lover’s touch as he gently pulled some out to leaf through them, smiling when he found a favorite passage, then gently putting it back.

“Most of them. But I’m always buying more books before I have finished reading what I already have. There are some used bookstores just a few blocks from here that I go to…”

“Are you surprised to hear me say that I go out? Hazel asked with a knowing smile.

“You father mentioned it to me earlier…that you go out alone.”

“I have to Adam. If I didn’t go for my walks – to get some exercise – then my right leg and ankle would just get weaker, much more than it already is. Probably to the point where I wouldn’t be able to get around even at home,” Hazel explained, wise beyond her tender years. Adam knew that her wisdom was gained from having to live with her clubfoot, accepting the limitations this type of birth deformity had placed on her and educating herself on the exercises and steps she had to incorporate into her life to delay and – hopefully – stop it from getting worse and from taking over her life.

“I have to go for my walks so I don’t lose the little independence I have. And I go in the early morning just as the sun is rising…that’s when my anxiety level is lowest. I panic around people…they’re not comfortable around me because of my clubfoot and my panic attacks frighten them…” Hazel said with a tremble in her soft voice. Adam moved closer and placed his hand over hers, giving her strength to continue.

“Luckily, there are enough benches dispersed along the route for me to make frequent stops to rest. And I always take one of my poetry books with me to read during those intervals. It may take me three times longer as an able-bodied person, but I get there,” Hazel said proudly.

Adam looked at Hazel with admiration. For everything she had been through she developed such a fortitude of spirit, such an inner strength. Adam greatly admired her perseverance and determination not to give in to the hardships inflicted on her by her clubfoot.

“As you can probably surmise, my favorite section of the library is Poetry,” Hazel said, her carefree smile back again.

“And who is your favorite poet?” Adam asked.

“I have so many favorites…Lord Tennyson…Lord Byron,” Hazel mused. “But I would have to say my favorite is Elizabeth Barret Browning. I can really relate to her poetry.”

“Nature’s lute sounds on behind this door so closely shut,” she said in her poem “The Prisoner,” Hazel quoted by heart.

“Do you feel like a prisoner, Hazel?” Adam asked quietly.

“Sometimes,” Hazel replied with a faraway look. “But I have my books…poetry is my inspiration and nature is the mother to my muse,” she said with a smile as she looked back at Adam.

He was so much taller than her mere 5’4” height. Hazel reflected inwardly on how to describe this man…and then she knew. Adam was as tall and strong and protective as the Ponderosa pines that grew on his family’s ranch. That’s how she would describe him. His masculinity made her feel safe in a way that she never felt before. In Adam’s company, Hazel felt like she had the freedom to be herself.

 

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

There is society where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar:

I love not man the less, but nature more.

 

Adam quoted, his voice as melodiously smooth as silk, as rich and deep as the most delicious dark chocolate. “Do you know that one?”

“Of course!” Hazel said, delighted. “That’s one of my favorite passages by Lord Byron, from his Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage.”

 

From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, and feel

What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

 

Hazel finished Lord Byron’s passage, then she looked at Adam looking at her, both elated that they had read the same poetry books and knew the same quotes, so much so that one could finish where the other left off.

“Thank-you Adam for coming after me. I really enjoyed our visit,” Hazel said, gratitude (and possibly something more) coloring her cheeks with a rosy blush.

“May I call on you again?” Adam asked softly, gazing into Hazel’s eyes.

Hazel just nodded, not trusting herself to speak over the lump of lonely emotion that rose up in her throat, threatening to choke her. But her radiant smile and the shy sparkle in her eyes was all Adam needed to see to know of her delight.

“It’s starting to snow,” Adam said with a quick look to the big westside window.

“It is! How wonderful, I so love the snow,” Hazel said, grateful for the distraction from the onslaught of new emotion that was playing havoc with her senses.

“You do?” Adam said, a little surprised. He was thinking with her disability, the snow would keep her inside, making Hazel even more a prisoner than she already was. Surely, she couldn’t go out in the snow and ice with her twisted clubfoot?

“Yes…the snow looks so pretty and pure, so silent and sincere…so soft as it cushions the rough edges of the city. There is just something so healing about falling snow. It’s like a blessing upon the city and upon the people. Each snowflake is unique…no two are the same…I feel blessed by it. And here I am waxing poetic about the snow,” Hazel said with an embarrassed little laugh. Its silver ring charmed Adam’s ears.

“But I know what you must be thinking, and you’re right, I can’t go out when it snows…but how I wish I could,” Hazel’s last words trailed off wistfully.

Adam was moved by the sad yearning in Hazel’s voice and right then he made a vow to himself that he would make her wish come true.

“And you shall. Next time it snows I’ll come for you. We’ll go out in the snow together.

The picture of Hazel’s big brilliant smile was all that Adam needed to keep him warm on his way back to his dorm room at Harvard.

 

Chapter 3…Then Comes The Snow

The wind breathed against the windowpane until silver spectral fingers of frost started to take shape and work their artistry, etching with graceful sprays and knitting together a web of icy lace, until finally, frozen flowerets started to bloom over the glass.

Hazel admired Winter’s garden of frost blossoming over her window. She watched in contented anticipation as the first idle flakes started to fall, steadily increasing in number until each snowflake was fluffy and fat with playfulness. The evening sky, heavy with the promise of snow, let loose this parade of a precocious flurry.

It was only the next night since Hazel and Adam were together. Only yesterday since Adam made that promise to Hazel at her door before departing. Adam had promised Hazel that he would come for her the next time it started to snow and they would go for a winter’s walk together. This was it. The next snowfall. Hazel wondered if Adam would remember and keep his promise.

All day, the sky looked like it would soon open up and give free reign to a multitude of snow. In anticipation, Hazel had gotten out her shoes and gave them a polishing. Especially the right one that was custom made for her clubfoot. They were burgundy-dyed leather, but the right one had a twelve-inch-high metal brace attached to it to give support to her leg. A padded leather buckle secured around the top of her withered shin kept the orthopaedic apparatus in place.

Once done, she spent the rest of the day relaxing by baking and writing a poem…and trying not to think about tonight. But she couldn’t help it…Adam’s face kept flickering in her mind…his mesmerizing midsummer eyes and the emotion that poured forth from their liquid depths that made her blush…his raven’s black hair feathering over his head in shiny waves…the perfect butterfly shape of his mouth…and then there was the rugged terrain of his chiseled jaw…but most of all Hazel remembered the kindness and care she felt emanating from him, the pure goodness of this man’s heart touched her most of all.

She was also surprised at how much it meant to her, the visit with Adam last night, and then tonight hoping that he would keep his promise. But it was understandable since no boy had ever expressed any interest in her, besides making fun or mimicking her, presenting her walk as a disparaging caricature…for so many years how she wished to be accepted, but in the past few she came to terms that she never would.

That is, until she met Adam Cartwright. He was the first man – besides Papa – to show her kindness, to express interest in her as a worthy human being and to treat her like a lady.

The grandfather clock in the hallway had just chimed 7 pm when Hazel heard a knock at the front door and Mr. Abrams answered the door.

“Ah, Adam, you’re here,” she heard Papa say. “Ever since the snow started, I believe Hazel has been expecting you.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Hazel heard Adam say. Her heart did a little flip at the deep reassuring sound of Adam’s voice. He came! Adam actually came!

As fast as she could, Hazel put on her boots, making sure to buckle the brace securely on her right one and rearranged her blue cornflower skirt over the boots, hiding the brace. She put on her coat, slung the canteen over her shoulder and grabbed a package on the table before heading out the door.

Adam’s eyes lit up when he saw Hazel. Even with the orthopaedic boot and brace on, she still limped. But to Adam, Hazel looked perfect and beautiful.

“Hello Adam,” Hazel said with a shy radiant smile. “I’m so glad you came.”

“I told you I would,” Adam said sincerely, looking into her eyes.

Hazel just smiled as she went to grab her cane by the door, self-conscious that her father was watching.

“Hazel, I think it will be too hard and slippery with your cane,” Professor Meadows said.

“Your father’s right, Hazel. Leave your cane here, you won’t need it anyway. You’ll be holding onto me tonight,” Adam said as he offered Hazel the crook of his left arm.

“Thank-you Adam,” Hazel said shyly, as she placed her hand on the elbow of his bent arm.

“Don’t worry, Professor Meadows. I’ll take good care of Hazel and have her back home at a reasonable time.” Adam said as he reassuringly patted Hazel’s hand where it rested on his arm.

“I’m sure you will. Enjoy yourselves, you two,” Professor Meadows said, smiling at his daughter as she left on her very first date.

 

Chapter 4…First Date, First Kiss

Silently, the snow continued to fall. It laid like the voluptuous folds of a blanket upon Boston’s landscape.

“Oh, I so love the snow,” Hazel said, her face upturned to the wintry sky so the fleecy flakes landed on her face as delicate as a kiss.

Adam laughed to see Hazel so delighted, her self-consciousness having dissipated to be replaced by her carefree fashion.

   “That grand old poem called winter…So sweet and wholesome is the winter, so simple and moderate, so satisfactory and perfect, that her children will never weary of it. What a poem!” Adam quoted Henry David Thoreau, one of his favorite philosophers whom he had studied at Harvard. He smiled down at Hazel, his smile revealing those delicious dimples that Hazel had come to love so dearly in such a short time.

He noticed the canteen on Hazel’s left shoulder. “And what did you bring with you, my dear Hazel?” Adam asked, exuding the irresistible warmth of his charm.

“Peppermint hot chocolate,” Hazel said with a big smile of her own. “You seemed to really like it last night.”

“Mmmn, my favorite…but I loved the company even more,” Adam said, his voice low and intimate. Then he winked at her.

Hazel blushed, then she pulled out of the pocket of her coat a brown paper-wrapped package. Adam raised a questioning eyebrow.

“And hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookies! I just baked them this afternoon. Papa mentioned how much you loved them at the party,” Hazel said, her face aglow with happiness. Adam was determined to keep it there.

“You’re going to spoil me,” Adam said, giving his deep infectious laugh as he took one of the pre-offered cookies.

“Not at all. What’s better to have on a winter’s walk than hot chocolate and cookies,” Hazel said, her eyes twinkling.

“A beautiful lady,” Adam replied with another intimate smile. Hazel blushed again.

“I wrote a poem today about winter while I was waiting for the snow to start,” Hazel said. Her heart was frothing over with joy and wonder and just plain exuberance of being in Adam’s company. Never had she imagined how wonderful it could be to have someone other than her father to pay attention to her instead of brushing her aside because of her deformity. Adam actually cared about what she had to say. And he always looked into her eyes when he talked to her.

“I’d love to hear your poem, Hazel,” Adam said sincerely, his right hand lightly caressing her small one where it rested in the crook of his left elbow.

Then he stopped walking as he turned to her and taking her hand from his arm, he kissed it. His lips were warm on her hand, and as they lingered for a few seconds longer, Hazel felt the butterflies start to flutter furiously inside her.

“My poem, yes…I have to think for a moment,” Hazel stammered, flushed. “Now I remember,” she said, as she gazed into Adam’s eyes. They were so clear and deep that she could see the reflection of the still falling snow in them.

 

“On my tongue I catch snowflakes,

One by one their symmetry melts into me…”

 

Hazel began reading her poem “Frozen Flame”. Adam was profoundly moved by her loneliness and pain and her yearning for love that she had expressed so eloquently in her poem. And when she read these lines-

 

“But I still know that I’m blessed

When my ink starts to flow,

Into the seams of my soul I gather Winter’s keepsakes,

And I wonder what it would be like to be a star

Illuminating the cheek of this Winter’s night,

But then I remember that I’m a free spirit

-though earthbound-

And that is the same as being a star…”

 

   Adam released her hands and his strong arms wrapped around her, gathering her close against his chest. “Oh Hazel!” You are loved and cherished,” he said ardently as he stroked her hair.

Hazel had never felt such loving tenderness before than she did wrapped in Adam’s warm embrace, his strong hands stroking her hair until she felt it must be shining under his affection. In fact, Hazel felt like her entire being must be glowing brighter than a lunar eclipse. Her heart was so full that it was frothing over again with these new feelings.

Hazel lifted her head up so she could look into Adam’s perfect face. His eyes were so full of compassion and tenderness and something else she never saw before…was it love? Hazel questioned if she was even worthy of such devotion. How could she be? How could Adam look at her with such pure love in his eyes when her own mother didn’t even love her? She had called Hazel a monster, a pig…and other names that it hurt too much to think of.

“Adam, how can you stand to look at me when my own mother couldn’t? She said I was an ugly monster!” Hazel cried, the tears over-brimming her eyes to streak in glistening streams down her flushed cheeks.

It broke Adam’s heart to see the pain in her eyes. How can a mother treat her own daughter in such a despicable way? Adam never knew his mother but he had known unconditional love from his father, and by the way his Pa loved him and by the kind of man he was and the man he raised Adam to be, Adam actually felt like he knew his mother after all.

As he looked at this slender slip of a girl in front of him who so passionately loved poetry and chocolate and nature, he felt like he had never known anyone to possess such a pure heart or a more beautiful soul than Hazel Meadows.

“There is nothing ugly about you, Hazel,” Adam said as he gazed into her eyes with his hands splayed on either side of her face, holding her as if she was the most cherished creature he had ever held. And Adam truly felt she was.

“Just let the pain go, you’re free now. No one will ever hurt you like that again. I promise.” The snow was still falling as winter’s breath brushed by them with her filigree silence. Hazel looked like an angel with her face upturned to the sky, the tears still sparkling on her eyelashes. Snowflakes even speckled Hazel’s cheeks as they kissed her before each one’s unique symmetry melted under her warmth. But the sweetest kiss Hazel ever received came from Adam.

Tenderly, he kissed one closed eyelid…and then the other. It was as if Adam was trying to kiss the pain from her eyes. Only a heartbeat or two passed before Adam kissed her again. And this third kiss…was on the lips.

 

Chapter 5…To Catch A Falling Star

Suddenly, Hazel gave a startled gasp as she lost her balance and fell backward. Adam, feeling Hazel slip from his embrace, moved to catch her but he too slipped on the same patch of treacherous ice. Snow flew up in a sparkling array of powder as Hazel landed on the ground and Adam right beside her. The snow had cushioned her fall…as well as Adam’s arms that were still around her. He never let go when he felt Hazel start to slip.

“Are you alright, Hazel? Are you hurt?” Adam asked, his black brows furrowed in concern as he propped himself up on one arm and looked down at Hazel lying in her bed of snow, crowns of crystalline white pillowing around her, soft as a smile.

For a moment, Hazel didn’t answer. So comfortable was she with the snow beneath her…and Adam’s right arm still beneath her shoulders as he tried to cushion her fall. She looked up at him, at the sparkling breath of snow and ice still floating through the air around them from their fall and Hazel thought she had never seen a more beautiful sight than this man with snow flecked through his coal-black hair and concern highlighting his eyes.

I’m fine, Adam,” she said dreamily, her hair a lush tumble of dusky gold upon the virgin snow. “You never let go when I slipped,” she said as she reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek, relishing the sensation of his rough stubble beneath her fingers.

“Of course not, silly girl. I told you, you’re safe with me. I will never let you fall…at least not on purpose,” Adam said, favoring her with his most charming smile and those delicious dimples, both of which Hazel gladly basked under their innate warmth. He took her fingers from his face with his left hand and bringing her hand to his mouth, Adam turned it over and lightly kissed her palm. It may be cold outside on this snowy night, but inside Hazel was feeling luxuriously warm. He smiled at her in a way that made Hazel think that she wasn’t the only one so affected.

Then Adam stood, helping Hazel up and brushing the snow from her coat. “I better get you home now so you can get warm. Your father won’t let me call on you again if I keep you out much later,” Adam said as they started to walk.

“I’ve never felt warmer than when I’m with you,” Hazel said in her soft-spoken way. Adam chuckled at the slight flirtatious accent to her words. “But you’re right, Papa will start to worry if I don’t get back soon,” she said as she took Adam’s left arm.

But after just a few steps, there was a clanking sound. Hazel’s brace had come loose in the fall. The buckle around her withered right shin and calf half undone.

“Oh no!” Hazel exclaimed, seeing the brace loose and collapsing around her ankle.

“Is it broken?” Adam asked upon seeing the collapsed apparatus on Hazel’s right boot.

“No, but…”

“Sit down on the snowbank here and I’ll have a look at it,” Adam said. Hazel felt a bit like Cinderilla as she sat on the snowbank with Adam kneeling in front of her. Then as he touched the hem of her skirt, he suddenly realized that he would have to lift up her skirt to near knee level to re-attach the brace. He was a gentleman, he couldn’t do that…

“On second thought, I think you should do this…you would know more about re-buckling the brace than me,” Adam said as he averted his eyes.

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Hazel said, feeling the awkwardness of the moment too. With a slight tremble to her hands, Hazel re-attached the brace and buckled it firmly in place just below her knee.

“All done,” she said as she smoothed down her skirt. “You can look now.”

Adam sighed in relief as he turned back to Hazel. He took her by the hand to help her up from the snowbank.

“Now, let’s get you home before another disaster strikes. Hazel just smiled the smile that melted Adam’s heart as she took his arm again.

The snow had since stopped from the time of their fall, now around them a world of white laid glittering. The muffled stillness of the night was thick with comfort, but also sharpened with a clarity that saw further into Winter’s night sky than it ever could through the haze of Summer evenings.

As if Winter wanted to prove her superiority, a brilliant burst of white streaked across the sky.

“Look, Hazel,” Adam exclaimed as he pointed to the celestial display. “A shooting star”.

Hazel stopped beside Adam and looked in the direction he was pointing. “A shooting star,” she said in undisguised awe. “I sometimes see them when I’m in our backyard soaking up the night’s atmosphere. The night was made for lovers and poets…and for stargazers,” Hazel smiled at Adam and gave a little laugh, its sound ringing silver in the frosty air. Adam affectionately patted her hand still linked through his left arm and smiled at her. He looked back at the sky where another flash of white dazzled the night, its blazing descent a spectacular sword of stars.

“It must be the Quadrantids meteor shower. Early to mid-January is the time to see it,” Adam explained. “It must be at its peak tonight for us to see so many shooting stars.”

Hazel just looked in silence at this spectacular celestial show, feeling more content and blessed than she ever had in her entire life. Here she was in Adam’s company, a man who gave his undivided attention to her, who made her feel safe and even loved, who treated her as a worthwhile person and not as a freak…and now having the good fortune of witnessing the Quadrantids meteor shower. How could life get any better than this?

“Go ahead, Hazel. Make a wish,” Adam said gently.

“I wouldn’t know what to wish for. I have everything right here,” Hazel said with a smile, giving a little squeeze to his arm through which her hand was linked. Adam turned to her and gazed into her blue-grey eyes, losing himself to their clear depths and the emotion he saw there.

How could anyone be cruel to this gentle girl who lives without guile, who is so open with her feelings, who is ready to give only love? Adam thought to himself. He meant what he said to her too. No one will ever hurt Hazel like she had been hurt ever again. Adam made that promise to Hazel and to himself too. He would see to it personally that promise was kept.

Adam looked at Hazel and thought she must be part fey too, like her father had claimed. Her peaches-and-cream skin, her rose petal mouth made even rosier from the cold air, her long dusky gold hair transformed into a rippling cascade around her face and shoulders from the snowflakes melting into them. They now looked like a mass of twilight tresses the way that the light from the falling stars spilled over them. Hazel just had that fairy-look to her.

“Don’t you have any special dreams for yourself?” Adam asked.

“I have lots of dreams,” Hazel replied. With a touch of sadness, she added “but I try not to dream about the impossible.”

“No dream is impossible,” Adam said as he cupped the left side of her face with his right hand. Hazel gave a little sigh and nestled into Adam’s hand, relishing in his tender gesture of affection and the warmth of his hand on her left cheek.

“It’s alright to dream Hazel…even of what may not seem possible right now,” Adam said gently. “Did you know that Lord Byron had a clubfoot?”

“Yes…Lord Byron’s not only one of my favorite poets, but he’s also my hero,” she said with a wistful smile.

“He became a powerful swimmer and even swam the Hellespont…”

“I know Adam,” Hazel said. “I’ve read his biography quite extensively over the years. Lord Byron too, was treated with derision by many people, but despite his emotional pain he didn’t let his deformity stop him from being quite an accomplished athlete.”

“But I don’t know how to swim…and I’ve never been interested in sports. I’d rather leave conquering the Hellespont to Lord Byron,” Hazel said, losing herself to the pull of Adam’s eyes on her, those twin liquid moons of his so full of promise and possibility.

“Then what do you dream for yourself?” Adam asked, his voice a melodious caress. “I don’t want you to stop dreaming.”

“No, never…my dreams are what keep me going. I believe in dreams. I always have. But my interests lie with my poetry, my chocolate creations…and gardening. In the Summer I tend to the garden out back of our house. I like watching the plants grow and the flowers blossom…and then the butterflies come.”

“I get such a pure feeling of finally being whole and healed when I’m in the garden surrounded by life and butterflies. If I was to do something, I would want something along those lines…chocolate and poetry and butterflies.”

Adam looked at Hazel and thought that even Calliope, the muse of poetry from the Greek myths, couldn’t be more beautiful than Hazel was right now. In fact, that’s what she was to Adam. Hazel was a living poem.

“Anything is possible,” was all he could say. So deeply touched was he by this wisp of a girl and her talk of dreams.

“I believe that too,” Hazel smiled. “Being here with you like this makes me believe it even more.” Then, in almost a whisper she added “my secret dream is to one day open up a chocolate and poetry café”.

Then, as if he were holding a priceless treasure, Adam placed his hands on each side of her head with his fingers spread protectively over her cheeks. Ever so gently he kissed Hazel’s forehead. “So, it shall be done,” he said reverently to the gentle soul before him. Then he kissed her lips, savoring her taste of sweet chocolate and peppermint.

“To thine own self be true,” Adam quoted Shakespeare, their lips parting as gently as when they had met. Tenderly he held Hazel against him, her head resting against his chest.

Chapter 6…The Professor and the Architect

The bell had just rung, its shrill voice signaling the end of class. “Architectural Design and its History” was the last course of the day. Adam closed his books but stayed seated, watching the other students file past him and leave the classroom, heading back to their dormitories.

All except Adam. Once the last student had left and he was alone with the smell of chalk and the cast-off shavings of many busy pencils permeating the classroom’s atmosphere, only then did Adam leave.

But he didn’t head back to his dorm like the others. He had another destination in mind, another project was percolating inside him. Adam went to Professor Meadows’ study.

His knock was answered by a voice within. “Come in,” it called out.

Adam opened the door and entered Professor Meadows’ study. His eyes scanned the room, absorbing the eclectic design. The few times that Adam was in this room, it never failed to amaze him. The design was not only eclectic, but it also could be called eccentric. Extremely so. Especially for a Professor who taught Harvard’s esteemed Architectural Design course.

The room was arrayed in bookshelves. There were books everywhere, not only on the bookcases that lined all four walls, but books in every nook and cranny. There were books piled on the chair in the far corner; on a rocker that looked so old Adam would bet it probably creaked incessantly – if it was strong enough to hold a fully grown person – Adam wasn’t sure of that either. There were books stacked on the two chairs in front of the Professor’s desk. And of course, on the desk itself.

Displayed among the assorted assembly of books on the shelves were also seashells; some pieces of driftwood that looked like they came from some unfortunate ship that met with a disaster at sea and sunk; a miniature statue of a noble-bearing cat painted Egyptian-style to represent Bast, Egypt’s most revered cat goddess, collected no doubt during one of Professor Meadows’ many overseas excursions. On another shelf there was a porcelain pig – a piggy bank – painted distinctly with a Japanese floral design. Obviously one of the Professor’s procurements from another expedition.

On the far wall above the bookcases were an assortment of native masks, there was even a six-foot-tall totem pole standing in the corner between the bookcases. Adam had heard that the Professor had gone on an expedition to Africa several years ago. He must’ve acquired these native artifacts then.

On his desk, strewn with paper and pencils and books, was a taxidermied baby crocodile. The Professor had told him once, very proudly, that this baby crocodile was a pencil sharpener as well as a pipe holder. It was certainly unique to say the least. The finishing touch to this eccentric assembly was the lamp that the Professor had on his desk. The base of it was a taxidermied duck.

“Ah, Adam. Now what do I owe for the pleasure of this visit? Please, sit down,” the Professor said from behind his desk.

Adam looked at the chairs stacked with books. The Professor motioned for him to move the books from one of the chairs. Adam did so, placing the books to the side of the chair on the floor, and sat down. The chair creaked ominously beneath him. Adam ignored it.

“Professor, I’ve come to talk to you…” at this point the arm of the chair came off in Adam’s hand. Momentarily distracted by the broken piece in his hand, Adam lost his train of thought.

“I think I’ll stand,” he said as he placed the broken chair arm on the Professor’s desk and stood up.

“Sir, I’ve come to talk to you about Hazel,” Adam began again.

“I am pleased with your interest in her. When I saw her after her return from your Winter’s walk, she was positively glowing. I never thought that a simple walk out in the snow could have such an effect on her,” the Professor said.

Adam cleared his throat. “Hazel is an exceptional young lady, full of beauty. I very much enjoyed our time together as well,” he said, the sincerity of his words speaking just as loudly from his eyes.

“I never thought Hazel would ever make a friend. I’m pleased that she has,” the Professor said, almost in amazement as if he never thought it was possible for his lame reclusive daughter to meet someone who could see beyond her disability. Adam didn’t like the slight implied, but he still kept his tone respectful to the Professor.

“With all due respect sir, Hazel has many virtues and qualities more numerous than a constellation of stars. Any worthwhile man would be made all the richer for her company. I am humbled and honored that she would choose to spend time with me,” Adam said. “I’ve never met another lady like her. Her unique vision, the creativity of her mind, her clever wit…her clubfoot doesn’t matter. Hazel is a whole being. She is perfect just as she is,” Adam’s eyes were illumed from deep within. The cast-off light from a thousand torchbearers couldn’t equal the sheer brilliance that lit up in Adam’s eyes when he spoke of Hazel.

“Really? Well, I’m very pleased to hear you speak so highly of my daughter,” Professor Meadows said. “Now what brings you here? Or is it to just sing her praises?”

“Hazel told me that she dreams about opening up a chocolate and poetry café. And I’d like to help her do it.”

“Are you serious? No, surely you must be joking! Hazel can’t do anything like that,” the Professor said, astonished at such a suggestion.

“I believe she can, sir. Hazel is strong. She’s had to be. She’s had to be strong to survive being ostracized from society as she has. No doubt, her imagination and her poetry has helped her endure the pain and rejection she has experienced. But from her pain was brought forth a tremendous talent. She’s a very passionate poet with an aesthetic eye for beauty. I haven’t seen her equal,” Adam said. “Not to mention a gifted baker too.”

“That’s it, isn’t it?! You’re under the spell of those hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookies!” Professor Meadows cried out, half joking.

“No,” Adam chuckled. “But I’d like to help her realize her dream.”

“And how do you plan on doing this?” the Professor said.

“That old classroom downstairs by the cafeteria. It hasn’t been in use for several years. I’d like to work on it – it could easily be converted into a chocolate and poetry café for Hazel. I will work on it in my spare time after school. It won’t interfere with my studies,” Adam said.

“That’s quite an undertaking,” the Professor said thoughtfully. “Even if you did work on it, Hazel can’t run a café…she can’t be around so many people. It will be too much for her…emotionally, and obviously physically too.”

“I will be there to help her. Hazel will have a chair set aside for her, so she can rest   whenever she needs to. She won’t be alone in this undertaking. I will arrange for her to have help when she needs to rest or go home. I’m sure Ashton’s fiancé, Melody, would want to help. She likes baking. I’ll ask her,” Adam said, enthusiastic with his plan.

“I appreciate your interest and friendship with my daughter. But I don’t see how this project of yours will work out. Even with a chair set aside for her, Hazel gets too overwhelmed around people.”

“I think you’re underestimating what Hazel can do,” Adam said firmly.

“Am I? Well, maybe…but people aren’t comfortable around Hazel. People don’t like being around the sick, the lame, the disabled. It reminds them of their own vulnerability to infirmities…and people don’t like being reminded of their own mortality. And as if to punish Hazel for reminding them, they turn hateful and cruel. They say the most terrible things…and make fun of her,” Professor Meadows tried to explain to the stout-hearted Adam. “I couldn’t stand to see my little girl hurt like that again.”

“I understand, Professor,” Adam said compassionately. “But I promise you no one will say or do anything cruel to Hazel. You have my word on that. I will be there to see to it personally. Hazel will be protected and well cared for. I will be right there to make sure she is treated with respect and will never be abused again.”

Then softly, but just as urgently, Adam said “Please don’t diminish Hazel’s virtues and accomplishments and what she can do.”

“You’re a good man Adam,” Professor Meadows said with unshed tears pricking his pale blue eyes. “Okay, you can try,” he said softly.

 

Chapter 7…Mirror For A Beautiful Soul

Twilight had fallen as soft as a sigh, her dusky lips whispering a lullaby over Boston’s wintery scene. While frosty blue silhouettes gave way to the lengthening of shadows, inside a certain brownstone house Hazel was tending to her evening routine in her west-wing apartment.

She had the oil lamps dimmed low; in the hearthside a fire blazed. The flames, brandy orange and brazen scarlet, danced together in intertwining motion. Around the logs they gyrated entrancingly, their fierce crackling sounding like SOS signals as the flames fed on the wood, spirals of smoke trailing up the stone chimney. Hazel could spend hours just staring into the fire. In fact, she often did; many poems had she written by the fireside.

Tonight, before she got too lost to the hypnotic lure of the fire, a knock sounded at her door. A familiar knock with a melodious rhythm to it. Hazel’s heart sped up like a hummingbird’s wings. Could it be? It was only two evenings ago since their snowy first date, but she would know that intimate knock anywhere. She felt the butterflies stir to life in her belly as she hurried to the door. And when she opened the door, Hazel had to remind herself to breathe. It was Adam.

“Hello Hazel,” Adam said her name like it was his favorite word. He was so much bigger than her. Bigger. Stronger. Though she had been hurt terribly before, Hazel had never been afraid in Adam’s presence. There was nothing but warmth in his eyes, nothing but a benign gentleness and an inherent goodness in his smile. And he had caught her when she fell. When she slipped on the ice and fell Adam had never let go…somehow that more than anything else made her feel safe.

“Adam,” she said in her soft-spoken way, smiling as she stood in the doorway, her twisted right foot she slipped behind her left.

Adam looked at Hazel in front of him, barefoot, her small stature…but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in strength of spirit. He noticed her gesture of hiding her right clubfoot behind her left. It saddened him that she was still self-conscious about her lameness around him. What her hateful mother had called “her twisted ugly foot”. Adam understood that it would take time to heal Hazel’s heart from that kind of hurt. But how Adam wished he could kiss the pain away and erase those scars from Hazel’s sensitive mind.

“Is this a good time?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hazel said a little breathlessly. Then turning, she limped into her living room with Adam behind her.

“I was just getting ready to tend to my foot,” she said as she settled herself on the sofa in front of the fire.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?”

“And what’s the flavor for tonight?” Adam asked with a smile.

“Candy cane hot chocolate,” Hazel said as she reached for the pot simmering by the fire, and pouring the homemade concoction in a mug on the table beside the sofa, she handed it to Adam.

“You’re always so well prepared,” Adam said with a chuckle as he took the steaming mug from Hazel.

“Of course,” Hazel said with a smile. “Anytime is a good time for hot chocolate. Especially when it has peppermint candy canes in it.”

“I didn’t mean to distract you from what you were doing,” Adam’s eyes were as soft as velvet as they gazed at Hazel. His gaze was so full of love that it was palpable in the air between them. How could that be? Hazel wondered. Adam had never touched her, but the way he gazed at her with such clear affection in their depths, Hazel felt like Adam had just touched her in the most loving way. For so long had she lived without affection and love…she actually felt starved. So Hazel just allowed herself to be drawn into Adam’s gaze, her thirsty eyes never breaking contact with his, but hungrily drinking in the love she saw there. A tear trickled free.

“What’s this?” Adam asked gently as he reached out, cupping the left side of her face with his right hand, his thumb wiping away the lonely tear.

“I think I just caught a glimpse of your soul in your eyes,” Hazel said softly. “You have a beautiful soul,” she said, her smile returning.

“No more beautiful than yours,” Adam said, his voice rich and warm like coffee laced with sunshine. “Now tell me what you need to do for your foot?”

“Every night I need to massage it to stretch and loosen the tendons and ligaments that have contracted and tightened up. Then I put fresh bandages on it to maintain its position,” Hazel explained, still self-consciously trying to hide her clubfoot behind her left on the floor. She was still seated on the sofa, but she tried to pull down her purple velvet skirt a few more inches to hide what she still thought of as her “deformity.”

“Hazel,” Adam said in his gentle way. “I wish you wouldn’t try to hide your foot. There’s no reason to.”

“I don’t want you to see my deformed foot. It’s disgusting. Ugly,” Hazel said in a trembling voice.

“There is nothing ugly about you. I have never met a more beautiful lady than you, Hazel Meadows. There is also no part of you that’s deformed. Anyone who calls you ugly and deformed is showing you that they’re the ones who are ugly and deformed. In their own minds. That’s where their deformity lies. Never forget that, Hazel,” Adam said, his rich voice full of conviction.

“Thank-you Adam,” Hazel said, tears sparkling in her eyes. But they were not tears of sadness this time…they were tears of gratitude.

“Now I’d like to help. I imagine the massage would be easier if another person was doing it. Will you let me?”

Hazel nodded, then moved her clubfoot from out of its hiding place behind her left. Adam could see the vulnerability in her face and how he wished to erase it and restore her smile. But he knew healing took time. Especially emotional healing.

Without a word, besides the compassion in his eyes that spoke louder than words ever could, Adam bent down and lifted Hazel’s clubfoot on the sofa, cradling it in his lap. He looked at it. Hazel looked too. The awkward U-shaped ankle. The foot sideways and facing inward, the upper slant of the heel and the toes curled upward.

Impulsively, Adam lifted her foot up to his mouth and kissed the collapsed instep, his warm lips lingering for a few seconds longer in the kiss that he wished could heal her. Hazel gave a startled gasp and in fact Adam was startled too by his impulsive act. He put her foot down again in his lap, and as if the kiss never happened Adam proceeded with Hazel’s massage.

As if he knew what to do, Adam held Hazel’s heel in one hand and placed his other across her mid-foot. Carefully and gently, he pulled down on the heel while his other hand pushed up on her mid-foot. He held Hazel’s foot in this position for several seconds. Then he released and repeated the procedure. Several times. After each time he would massage her collapsed instep with his thumbs. The collapsed instep where he laid his kiss. Hazel’s skin still tingled from Adam’s impulsive intimacy.

“I have flat feet too. No arches,” Hazel explained when she saw Adam massage her foot where her arches should’ve been.

“I see that,” Adam said softly, as he continued their massage.

“You don’t think it’s disgusting?” Hazel asked.

“Not at all,” Adam said as he looked up at her, his gaze steady and unwavering.

Hazel looked back at Adam, searching his face for any sign of a lie. She saw none. His face was so open and truthful and somehow Hazel knew that Adam valued truth too highly to ever defile his lips with a lie.

“How did you know what to do?”

“I read up on it. After the first time we met.”

Hazel was moved beyond words that Adam would care so much to actually read up on her infliction and learn the proper massaging technique. She looked at his hands. They possessed such strength and the fingers so elegantly long. They were the hands of an artist. Adam was an artist. He played the guitar as she learned not long ago. Now he was using his artist’s hands to help heal Hazel’s clubfoot. And her heart too.

Overwhelmed with gratitude for the kindness and compassion – and most of all the love – that this man had shown her, Hazel reached out and tentatively touched his hands with both of hers.

Adam stopped his massage as Hazel ran her hands over the top of his, up his muscular forearms, savoring the sensation of the curly dark hair that covered them as they tickled her palms. Then back down again she ran her hands to the top of his.

Adam looked up and as his gaze met hers, Hazel said “I love your hands. Thank-you.” With reverence for the humble service he performed for her, she kissed his right hand, then his left.

Adam was deeply moved by the emotion Hazel radiated as she kissed his hands. He never had a woman do such a pure act of gratitude to him before…in fact it embarrassed him, but he also liked it too. The emotion that rose up in him from Hazel’s act was so powerful, he couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat, nor could he speak for a few moments.

Instead, he wordlessly moved his hands from Hazel’s grasp. But not completely. Tenderly, their fingers touched and traced along each other until their hands were facing each other, palm to palm. Adam’s strong big hands against Hazel’s delicate smaller ones.

“This reminds me of Romeo and Juliet. My favorite play by Shakespeare,” Hazel said with her carefree smile back again. Adam just smiled back at her.

“For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss,” Hazel quoted Juliet’s lines.

   “O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray…” Adam quoted Romeo’s reply in his rich fluid voice. Then, leaning forward, he kissed Hazel’s waiting lips. During the moment of their kiss – as they imbibed the sweet ambrosia of the other – their fingers intertwined, lacing together.

“You kiss by the book,” Hazel said breathlessly, her eyes sparkling bright.

“So said Juliet to her Romeo,” Adam said with a laugh.

“And so do I say to you, Adam. My Romeo,” Hazel replied, starry-eyed.

Time seemed to be holding her breath, waiting to see what these two young lovers would do next. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Umm, I had something I need to talk to you about,” Adam began. Hazel’s eyes were questioning. “It’s about your dream to one day open up a chocolate and poetry café.”

“It’s just a dream…a silly dream,” Hazel tried to sound dismissive about it, but Adam could see behind her façade. He knew how much this dream meant to this girl.

“It’s not a silly dream. I don’t believe that and neither do you,” Adam said, his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t turn away from him. “I want to help you make your dream come true.”

“Oh Adam! It’s true, I do believe in dreams. I always have…and it’s hard to let a dream go. But I just don’t see how this particular dream can come to be,” Hazel said, looking into Adam’s eyes while trying to keep the tremble from her voice.

“I think there’s a way. At Harvard, there’s an old classroom that hasn’t been in use for several years. Not since I’ve been there. I’m going to start working on it and convert it into a café for you. I already talked to Professor Meadows about it. He took a little persuading, but he eventually gave me permission to proceed with the project,” Adam said, gently rubbing Hazel’s shoulders and neck. He could feel the tension start to build in her.

“Adam…I don’t know what to say,” Hazel began, already feeling overwhelmed by the thought that her café might actually be possible, and not remain an unrealized dream. “Papa actually gave you permission?”

“He did, Hazel,” Adam replied, his smile full of his familiar warmth, his dimples as disarming as ever.

“Oh Adam, I don’t know about this. I feel overwhelmed at just the thought of it, all those people…” Hazel said, overcome with the humongous undertaking she knew this project would be.

“It’s true, I have always dreamed about opening up a chocolate and poetry café, I even thought of a name for it: The Chocolate Bookworm” …but now when it comes right down to it and it’s standing on my threshold…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can really handle it. It may be too much for me,” Hazel said as she tried to sort out her thoughts.

“Don’t you worry about all that,” Adam said, reassuringly. “Let me build it for you first. It shouldn’t take longer than two weeks. You won’t be in this alone. I will be there with you after class. And when I’m not, Melody will be there. You know Melody? Ashton’s fiancé?

Hazel just shook her head.

“Ashton is one of my dorm-mates and Melody is his fiancé. She likes baking too. She’s agreed to help you,” Adam explained.

“But I don’t know her,” Hazel said, obviously still fearful.

“But you will. Melody is nice. There’s nothing to be afraid of Hazel. I won’t leave you alone with all this.”

“I don’t know if I can handle being around so many people with my history of panic attacks.”

“I understand, sweetheart. There will even be a chair and a quiet place set aside for you. And Melody will be there to take over if you have to rest or go home. Trust me. Everything will work out. You won’t be alone. I’m here for you,” Adam reassured.

“I trust you Adam. Completely,” Hazel said. And she meant it too.

“Now, I have to go soon…but there is one more thing I wanted to show you. Do you have a full-length mirror? Adam asked, a little mysteriously.

   What is this man planning now? Hazel wondered. “In the hallway, just outside my bedroom door,” Hazel answered.

Adam took her by the hand and together they went over to the mirror. Hazel just stood there in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection.  Adam was standing behind her, his strong hands on her slender waist. As tall as he was, his head and broad shoulders were clearly seen above Hazel in the mirror’s reflection.

“Now what do you see?” Adam asked, his breath hot against her ear.

“I see me…and you.”

“I just want you to concentrate on you for the moment. Now what do you see?”

   How can Adam expect her to just concentrate on looking at herself in the mirror when she had the most perfect specimen of masculinity standing right behind her, Hazel thought to herself. Instead of answering, she just shook her head.

“Ok. Do you want to know what I see?” Adam began, his baritone voice was pure music to Hazel’s ears.

“Well, beyond your eyes where an ocean of eternity is reflected; beyond your hair that shines like its been polished by the sun itself; beyond your soft creamy skin that invites a kiss…” at this point Adam stopped speaking as he swept back Hazel’s hair off her right shoulder so he could nuzzle his face into the nape of her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist with an intimate squeeze. Hazel’s heart thrilled at the unexpected intimacy. Then Adam placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck, causing a delicious quickening to sparkle beneath Hazel’s skin, rushing downward to warm her loins.

Hazel thought to herself that she could die right then, right now, and have no regrets about dying young. So complete was her happiness wrapped in Adam’s warm embrace and with the kiss he had just given her, that she couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

“Now as I was saying, beyond what you see in the mirror,” Adam continued, his attention back on their reflection while his strong arms were still wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her against him where he stood behind her. With Adam behind her, Hazel felt like she had the strength she needed to fly. She listened to his voice like she would to her favorite musical composer.

“I see a beautiful girl whose highest ideal is to live with a pure heart; who loves nature, tends to plants and nurtures butterflies; who loves chocolate and has taught herself to cook and bake despite the negligence of an indifferent mother; who endured the cold callous reality she was born into until she escaped into a world of imagination…there, she not only survived but she thrived and discovered in herself a tremendous talent for writing and for poetry.”

“I see a girl – a young lady – full of love and grace and gentleness, truth and trust, and has an unwavering backbone of faith as her compass.”

“Thank-you, Adam, for seeing me as such,” Hazel said, unshed tears of tender emotion threatening to over-brim the shoreline of her eyes.

“I see you as you really are,” Adam whispered silkily in her ear.

 

Chapter 8…For His Lady

The air was filled with dust from the construction work. The two men who were doing the work were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, not to mention the dust from the sawed pieces of wood.

It had only taken Adam a few days to draw up the plans and to sketch the design. Now the hard work began in earnest. Adam was in the midst of converting the old classroom on the ground floor by Harvard’s main cafeteria into a café for Hazel. He had managed to talk his dorm-mate, Ashton into helping him.

“I guess you can use this project as credit in our Architectural Design class,” Ashton spoke casually, moving some lumber.

“I never thought of that,” Adam said, thinking. “But that’s not why I’m doing this. This is for Hazel.”

“Of course! But there is nothing wrong with also using it as practical experience in your class. In your final year you have to choose a project as part of the curriculum of Architectural Design,” Ashton went on reasonably.

Adam didn’t say anything. He knew Ashton was right, but he didn’t like the implied intention that he was also doing this as part of his school work. He wasn’t. This project was solely for Hazel. To help her bring her dream into the shy dawn of reality.

During the time that it had taken Adam to design these plans and then to start construction on the café, Hazel had become more important to Adam, until he thought of her as an integral part of his being. In fact, she had become more essential to him than breathing.

Ashton had heard of Hazel, Professor Meadows’ reclusive daughter; but only the gossip from fellow students. Half-truths and outright lies as Adam would call them, such rumour and idle talk were beneath him and he looked on those who would listen to such clothesline blather disparagingly. Adam said gossip was the lowest, most despicable form of conversation. In fact, it wasn’t conversation at all; just the senseless ramblings of people who had nothing better to do.

So, Ashton broached the subject of Hazel with caution. But he had to know; the curiosity was killing him.

“So, what is she like?” Ashton asked as he handed Adam a shelf.

“Who?” Adam didn’t even bother to look up from his hammering.

“You know…Hazel. What is she like?” Ashton asked again.

“Adam stopped hammering and looked up. His gaze, cool and steady. “Get back to work,” was all he said.

If Ashton heard the edge to Adam’s voice, he chose to ignore it. Unwisely.

“Come on, Adam, you always clam up when it comes to talking about girls, but this is Professor Meadows’ reclusive daughter. The renowned hermit.” Ashton pushed on, unaware that he might as well have been prodding a rattlesnake.

“Drop it, Ash! “Adam snapped.

Ashton dropped the wood he was carrying. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

With a silly grin, Ashton picked up the lumber. “Can she even talk?” Ashton asked, persisting with his questions.

“What?!” Adam exclaimed, surprised and getting angrier.

“Well, the Professor keeps her cloistered away and people say she hasn’t been to school for most of her life…so can this Hazel even talk? What do you do together with someone like that? She can’t even dance…”

“Of course she can talk! And what we do together is no one’s business but our own,” he said, the dangerous edge to Adam’s voice was getting sharper.

“Is she backward? A simpleton? Can she even kiss?” Ashton knew he was pushing Adam, perhaps he was going too far his inner voice warned him, but he wanted answers.

Adam dropped his hammer and for an answer he swung an angry right cross, connecting with Ashton’s jaw. A painful crack resounded through the old classroom, but not nearly as sharp as the pain that shot through both Ashton’s jaw and Adam’s knuckles.

Ashton fell backward; then before he was even standing tall again, he plunged a head-butt into Adam’s gut.

Adam was knocked to the ground, but he took Ash with him, both wrestling on the lumber-strewn floor.

With a few more moves, Ashton managed to wrestle himself out of Adam’s death-grip and threw a punch of his own. The force of his fist sent Adam staggering backward into the wall. Even the slow trickle of bright red blood from the corner of Adam’s mouth didn’t slow him down.

With barely a secondary lapse, Adam was back – a raging bull couldn’t have been fiercer – this time Adam found an opening to the disheveled man and he pummeled into Ashton with both of his fists, blow after bloody blow to his dorm-mate’s gut and then his face, beating him to a disharmonious pulp…until Ashton laid on the floor, only his heavy breathing to show that he was still alive.

The victorious Adam, having fought and won for his lady’s honor, stood over Ashton for a moment. Then he got the canteen from the workbench, unscrewed the cap and dumped the water onto the semi-unconscious Ashton. The battered and bloodied man came to with a shaggy-dog shake of his head.

“This girl really means that much to you?” He asked, once his vision cleared and he could focus on Adam again, still towering over him.

“Yes. She does,” Adam said, flint in his eyes and steel in his voice.

“You really like this girl that much?” Ashton asked, surprised.

“I love her,” Adam answered simply.

“Okay. That’s all I needed to know,” Ashton said nonchalantly as he raised his hand up to Adam and Adam helped Ashton to his feet.

“Let’s get back to work then,” Ashton said. Adam grinned and slapped him on the back.

They were friends again.

Over the next two weeks, Adam and Ashton built Hazel’s café complete with tables, bookshelves, and a kitchenette. No more fights broke out…Ash had wisely learned to keep his mouth shut about Hazel.

So, out of Adam’s love, hard work, talent for architectural design – and with a minimum of bloodshed – The Chocolate Bookworm was born.

Chapter 9…The Chocolate Bookworm

The world was muffled in white; wearing pendants of icicles like a queen would wear jewelry, so was Harvard University that day. But the appearance of the normally formidable building was softened by Winter’s mittens having padded snow along its vast perimeter. Against the structure’s dark red and brown bricks, the snow had gathered like presents around a Christmas tree. Only the lantern light through the square windows casted a pale echo of shadows outside.

Today was the day that Hazel would see the completed “The Chocolate Bookworm” café for the first time. For the past two weeks Adam had been working on it after school for a few hours each day. Then he would come by to see Hazel in the evenings. And every time Hazel’s heart somersaulted inside her like a trapeze artist – even when Adam brought his homework – Hazel was still smitten to be in his presence. And Adam in hers. Every night by the flickering warmth of the fire, Adam massaged her clubfoot, the tender artistry of his hands moving in the practiced motions of the special massage that he learned will help ease her discomfort and start to heal her foot. He would always end the massage with that tender intimate kiss to her collapsed instep. It startled her the first time he did it. His impulsiveness startled them both. But now with the growing intimacy between them…it just felt right. Hazel could feel the wounds in her soul start to heal with that kiss. As well as her bones turning to a quivering mass of jelly with the sparkling sensation of Adam’s lips on her skin.

He had kept her informed of the progress he was making in the refurbishing of that old derelict classroom into her café. Hazel still had nervous butterflies in her belly when she thought of it, but they were subdued by Adam’s rich lyrical voice and the oasis of warmth that pulsated from his eyes whenever he looked at her. Hazel could just bask under his warm loving gaze for an eternity.

Now here she was with Adam in front of the esteemed Harvard. Adam lifted her down from the horse-drawn carriage that had conveyed them over the bridge of the Charles River that connected Boston to Cambridge. Soon, Hazel could see the steeple of the Chapel that neighbored the school over the gnarled limbs of the tall trees, and she knew they had arrived.

Hazel stood outside looking up at the school, trying not to be intimidated by the way it towered prodigiously before her. Adam stood beside her and looked at his school, trying to see it through Hazel’s eyes. He could feel her unease.

Taking her right hand, he caressed it with his fingers and then bringing it to his mouth, he kissed the top of her hand in the courtly manner that was uniquely his own, his breath warming her flesh. In that one kiss, Winter’s chill was chased away from Hazel and she suddenly felt like it was Springtime.

“Shall we go?” Adam asked gently.

“Yes,” Hazel sighed happily as she placed her hand in the crook of his left arm, and together they proceeded through Harvard’s front doors and down the deserted hallway. Class had not let out yet so there were no other students around.

She could smell the freshly cut wood before she was even at the café. And then she was there. Adam opened the door for her and watched as Hazel entered her Dream Come True. There were round tables with two chairs at each scattered throughout the café. Lace tablecloths, burgundy and ivory, adorned the tables and in the center of each was an already lit lantern, casting forth a golden halo. The walls were lined with bookshelves, maple-lacquered and polished to a shine. And the shelves were already filled too. Hazel walked around in amazement, her hands skimming over the shelves, her fingers caressing the spines of the volumes just as Adam had done that first evening at her apartment.

But these were books not from her apartment, but the books that filled the shelves of her very own café “The Chocolate Bookworm”. There were Jane Austen’s books; Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, Jane Eyre by her sister Charlotte; there was a volume of Shelley’s poetry plus Frankenstein by his wife Mary; there was Longfellow’s The Golden Legend; Milton’s Paradise Lost; there were all of Shakespeare’s plays; and of course, Lord Byron.

“Adam…what you’ve done…you take my breath away,” Hazel whispered as she turned to face him, her eyes over-brimming with grateful tears.

Adam just smiled at her, his exquisitely handsome face aglow with the inherent warmth of his soul, exuding the irresistible charm of his dimples. He just opened his arms to her and Hazel melted into his welcoming embrace.

“Then I must give breath back to you,” Adam’s voice was low and intimate as his right arm slid around Hazel’s waist and his left around her shoulders. He held her close as their lips met and merged together in a kiss that engaged all of their senses. It was a kiss that kindled the embers of desire in the other, then gently surpassed it to be a kiss so heightened with passion that mere words would fail to do it justice. So I won’t try to describe it here.

When their lips finally parted, Hazel stepped back so she could gaze into Adam’s face – like a daisy would gaze into the enamored perfection of the sun – so did Hazel with Adam.

“Where did you get all these books?” She asked in undisguised wonder.

“Most of them came from your father’s study,” Adam smiled down at her, still safely locked in his embrace. “He pointed me towards your favorites.”

“How clever of you both. Thank-you Adam,” Hazel said quietly. Then her eyes lighted on a beloved volume, seen over Adam’s shoulder.

“Emily Dickinson,” she delightfully exclaimed as she broke from Adam’s amorous embrace – only for a moment though – their partings were such “sweet sorrow” as Juliet once declared to her Romeo, that like those fated lovers of long ago, Adam and Hazel couldn’t bear to be apart for long.

“How I love her so. I wish Emily could see “The Chocolate Bookworm”. I know she would love it,” Hazel said wistfully. “I’ll write to her tonight and tell her all about it.”

You know Emily Dickinson?” Adam asked, surprised. Hazel nodded.

“Only by letters though. Her brother Austin was a student at Harvard eight years ago. He mentioned to Papa that his sister Emily was a poet and corresponded with several people by letters. Papa urged me to write to her in the hope that we would become friends. And we did,” Hazel said with one of her sweetest smiles that melted Adam’s heart.

“I wish I could meet her. But she rarely if ever leaves her home in Amherst. She said it just makes her too nervous to be far from home. I think she has panic attacks too, though she hasn’t said so.”

“I think she’d be as amazed as I am at what you’ve built here,” Hazel said, her face so full of love for the man in front of her that she was glowing.

“I think Miss Emily Dickinson will understand. After all it was she who said:

 

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,

One clover, and a bee,

And revery.

 

Hazel smiled her pure pleasure at Adam as she placed her hands in both of his, savoring the connection that sizzled between them.

 

The revery alone will do,

If bees are few.

 

Hazel finished quoting Emily Dickinson’s poem that Adam had started. “That’s one of my very favorite poems of hers. Emily knew that to bring a dream into reality, first you need revery. And if too few “bees” are around to help in its construction, then you will still always have it in your reveries.”

“And to make “The Chocolate Bookworm” café, all it took was a heart full of love, one very special lady, and revery,” Adam finished his own version of Emily’s poem while gazing into the liquid pools of Hazel’s eyes.

“Oh Adam,” Hazel sighed as she melted into his embrace again. It was the only place in the world she ever wanted to be.

“Is this a private party or can we join in?” said a voice behind them.

Hazel gave a startled gasp and spun around in Adam’s embrace. Adam placed his hands on her shoulders to calm her as he softly chuckled.

“It’s alright Hazel,” he said as his hands lightly massaged her shoulders for a moment, trying to reassure her and calm her nerves too. She still got nervous when other people were around besides Adam. Though she tried not to show it and the strain it put on her to interact with people, Adam was aware how difficult it was for her.

“Ash, I’m glad you could make it,” Adam said as he reached out, taking Ashton’s hand in a firm handshake.

“Melody,” Adam greeted the young raven-haired beauty beside Ashton with a tip of his hat.

“Hazel, this is Ashton and his fiancé Melody,” Adam made the introductions. Ashton tipped his hat to Hazel. He was tall, though of a much smaller build than Adam. His face wasn’t as perfect as Adam’s too, marred as it was by the swelling of a back eye and a crimson cut on his cheekbone. Melody stood beside Ashton with the learned poise of high society. Her dress was a myriad of green shades, draped in folds about her. The scalloped neckline of the dress’ bodice revealed Melody’s flawless creamy complexion. Her vibrant blue eyes bespoke of a friendliness that Hazel hadn’t often seen.

“Hazel, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Adam speaks of you quite often,” Melody spoke warmly, looking into Hazel’s eyes and not at her clubfoot.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Hazel replied shyly.

“Whatever happened to your eye?” Hazel just had to ask Ashton who smiled wryly at her question.

“Umm, I walked into a wall,” was all he said. Adam gave an embarrassed chuckle. Melody was well aware of the fight and had thoroughly chastised Ashton for his juvenile behavior that had so provoked Adam.

“Oh…that’s happened to me too,” Hazel replied sincerely. Adam just kissed her hair, breathing in her honey scent.

Suddenly, the camaraderie of the moment was disrupted by the harsh voice of the bell, indicating the end of class. The hallways that were once deserted and quiet were now filled with the raucous noise of students filing out of class.

Most of the students left the building to go to their dorms, but a group had stopped at the open door of the café and stared curiously at Hazel. They continued to look fixedly for a few moments, rudely staring until recognition dawned on them and then they couldn’t believe their eyes. Behind their hands they started whispering to each other, all the while pointing at her right foot and silently laughing.

Did she recognize them? Hazel wondered to herself. Their laughter and sneers and rude gawking seemed so familiar to her – as if they were those bully kids all grown up – except for having the same juvenile streak of cruelty in them. It’s true, Hazel hadn’t gone to school for most of her life. But she was in school long enough to be scarred by the taunts and ceaseless ridicule and traumatized by the assaults.

Now here they were again. The recognition brought her back as an ocean of memories started flooding over Hazel, in wave after tumultuous wave, to the ceaseless tauntings of the school children as they continually tripped her and pushed her face down into a pile of manure and the teachers who ignored her tears and pretended they didn’t see.

Once congested inside her, now the floodgates opened and her mind let loose a flurry of flashbacks to her mother’s angry assaults and unpredictable outbursts of cruelty. Freakshow! No one will ever love you with that ugly twisted foot! She would scream and spew her venom as Hazel’s face crumbled into tears.

Hazel felt her skin crawl from the inside out as a tidal wave of queasiness started building in her belly and erupted through her. She felt herself start to shake and lose her balance as if the world was tilting off its axis. Caught in its whirlpool vice-like grip, the panic attack sapped the strength from her legs. She reached out and grabbed Adam’s arm before she collapsed.

Adam felt her violent trembling and saw the perspiring flush on her brow. He grew alarmed.

“Hazel, what’s happening?” Adam cried, catching Hazel as she collapsed against him. But he knew. During all the time they spent together in the evenings during the past three weeks, Hazel had told Adam about her panic attacks and how debilitating they were, how severely they affected her. But this was the first one that Adam had seen. He was glad that Hazel had told him so he could be somewhat prepared. But being told about it and actually seeing it happen was completely different.

He kneeled on the floor with her, cradling her in his arms, whispering sweet words to soothe her while Melody dabbed her handkerchief to Hazel’s flushed tear-streaked face.

“Hazel, you’re going to be alright. I’m right here with you,” Adam soothed as he continued to cradle her in his arms. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there. How he wished to kiss away the scars from her bruised psyche.

The last thing Hazel remembered was the feeling of the ground disappearing from under her and being carried away…

 

Chapter 10…Catharsis In The Dark

The darkness was a welcoming velvet catharsis to Hazel’s overwhelmed mind. It surrounded her in layers of softness upon softness, molding to the tender curvatures of her mind, filling in the creases like a salve.

In Hazel’s semi-conscious state, she thought she heard a heartbeat – strong and rhythmic – a heartbeat punctuated the darkness. It consoled her and made her comfortable in the dark’s unfurling folds of softness that surrounded her. Yes, if she could just concentrate on that heartbeat Hazel knew she would be alright. Its rhythm was soothing and reassuring like a lullaby. In fact, that’s what it was to her: a lullaby.

Was that lullaby heartbeat also accompanied by a voice humming? What was that tune? Hazel concentrated. Through the fog and haze that threatened to close in over her, Hazel focused her awakening mind on that voice. It was softly humming a favorite tune of hers…In The Pines. Yes, that was it. In The Pines was one of her favorite songs. She had told someone recently that In The Pines gentled her nerves and calmed her mind just like a lullaby. Who was it? Yes, of course. Adam. Hazel had told Adam.

Hazel stirred. Her head was pillowed against something warmly breathing out comfort in perfect time with the heartbeat. Hazel stirred again. The voice faltered and then a hand was brushing the stray remnants of darkness from her cheek. After the coarse unravelling of the panic attack that had assaulted Hazel’s mind and body, that feather-soft caress on her cheek felt like Heaven.

“Hazel? Sweetheart? Please come back to me, Hazel,” the voice said, its deep lyrical tones softened and lowered with concern.

Slowly, Hazel opened her eyes and found herself looking up into Adam’s face. His hair was slightly disheveled, the shiny coal-black waves having gone astray during the couple hours of worry and concern that it took for Hazel to recuperate from her attack. His face was covered in a day’s growth of beard. Tentatively, Hazel reached up and laid her right hand against Adam’s left cheek, savoring the rough stubble beneath her soft fingers. Slowly and gently, she caressed Adam’s manly cheek. But the feature that drew her attention the most were his eyes. Adam’s eyes were an intoxicating swirl of greenish brown with a golden viridescence highlighting their infinite depths. Right now, they were brimming full with concern and compassion, like a cup overflowing with the richest wine.

Hazel knew why a heartbeat punctuated the darkness that engulfed her, why the cushion of warmth that cradled her was breathing. Hazel had awoken to find herself in Adam’s warm embrace, his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. Her head was resting against his chest.

When she had her panic attack at Harvard and collapsed, Adam had carried her to the nurse’s office. There, he carried her into a room with a bed and a chair beside it, the curtains were drawn shut and the lamp dimmed low.

He had originally laid her on the bed, but after a few minutes looking at her lying there alone, Adam reclined in the bed beside her. His back was against the wall and his long legs stretched out before him, he then carefully lifted Hazel into his lap. As if she were the most precious package he ever was privileged to hold, Adam cradled Hazel against him, gift-wrapped in his warm embrace. Her head rested against his chest, just below his shoulder. Gently, he rained soothing kisses on her face and stroked her hair. For the few hours it took Hazel to recuperate and recover from her attack, Adam held her, softly humming her favorite lullaby-song In the Pines.

   “Adam, you’re here,” Hazel whispered, moved by the wonder of this man who stayed with her the entire time of her panic attack.

“Of course, I am. Where else would I be,” Adam said as he took her hand from his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, he kissed her fingertips. Hazel started to feel deliciously warm again with that kiss, and allowed herself to sink even deeper into Adam’s all-encompassing embrace.

“I’m sorry Adam,” Hazel said, starting to feel the familiar guilt at having gotten sick. The intelligent side of her knew that it was silly to apologize for being sick, for having a panic attack…after all she had no control over them…she never had. But her mother had always yelled at her when she had them and would even punish her. That punishment usually took the form of just ignoring her. Until Hazel’s existence proved to be too inconvenient to just ignore. Then she would yell at her some more, accusing Hazel of having them on purpose just to ruin everyone’s day.

“What for? There’s nothing to be sorry about. Don’t apologize for getting sick,” Adam said, the steady gaze of his eyes willing Hazel to feel the truth of his words. The truth that Adam believed. And the truth that Hazel knew deep inside her.

Then he gently kissed her forehead. It was a kiss of such tenderness that tears of lonely emotion from years of being ignored, pricked Hazel’s eyes.

Slowly Adam moved downward, his mouth pressing gently to one closed eyelid, and then its sister, his lips were warm as he kissed the tears from her eyes. Hazel’s breath caught in her throat at being shown such tenderness. Then as Adam’s mouth moved lower and he kissed her long on her quivering lips, Hazel tingled all over. After a few moments of enjoying a repast of sensory delights, their lips parted. Still, the current between them sizzled.

“It’s not your fault,” Adam said, his golden-green gaze meeting Hazel’s sky-lit eyes.

“I always thought it was,” Hazel said softly. “I always felt that was why Mama never loved me. She said my panic attacks made me unlovable and my clubfoot made me ugly.”

“Oh sweetheart! Your Mama was sick, don’t take her sickness into you,” Adam said as he tightened his embrace around Hazel, pressing kisses to her honeyed hair. “There is nothing unlovable about you. Now, don’t you believe that for a single moment.”

“I won’t Adam,” Hazel said, grateful with all her heart for this man. How could she be unlovable when God had brought this man into her life? God must’ve thought Hazel was worthy, for Adam to have come into her life as he did and to be with her right now.

Then thinking, she asked “Adam, why is it always easier to believe the bad things someone says about you, instead of the good?”

“I don’t know sweetheart,” was all he could answer, with a crinkle of sadness around his eyes. He continued to hold her close, cradling her in his protective embrace.

“Adam, you’ve done so much for me already.” Adam just caressed her arm and looked at her with love shining in his eyes.

“I promise, I’ll get there Adam,” Hazel spoke a little louder than her usual soft-spoken way. “I promise, I’ll get to that soft place and believe only the good.”

“I know you will, honey,” Adam said with a smile. “Whenever you have doubts, just look into my eyes and see how I see you. There, you will know the truth of my love,” Adam said, his voice soft but very serious.

“I promise, Adam. I love you,” was all Hazel could answer. Her heart was overflowing too much for mere words to do her love justice. Adam just kissed her long and slow.

Then, there was the sound of footsteps briskly approaching; a signal to Adam that his time alone with Hazel was about to come to an end and he should probably get out of the bed. It wouldn’t look right for the nurse to find him in bed with her patient. Even though it was quite innocent and no amorous congress had come into play, would nurse Leslie believe him?

So, disentangling himself from Hazel’s arms around his neck, he lifted her off his lap and placed her back on the bed, pulling the blanket demurely up to her chest.

Hazel looked at him questioningly. “We’re about to have company,” Adam said as he settled himself into the chair.

The door opened and in walked a young woman in a white nurse’s uniform. She wore a white hat on top of her head among the caramel curls of her hair that cascaded about her shoulders. Her eyes were blue and brightened with friendliness. Though there was something different about her eyes, something Hazel had never seen before. They didn’t seem to focus on the person she was talking to.

“Hello. I’m nurse Leslie. How is our patient doing now,” she said.

“I’m doing much better. I still have a little queasiness in my head, but otherwise I’m fine,” Hazel answered as nurse Leslie felt her forehead and took her pulse.

“You seem to be better enough to go home,” she said.

“I am,” Hazel said with a smile.

“I’ll take Hazel home,” Adam said as he stood up. “I’ll bring the carriage by the entrance and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Adam closed the door behind him, leaving the two women alone.

“I see you and Adam have gotten quite close,” nurse Leslie said with a discerning smile. Hazel just nodded and blushed. “My fiancé John is one of his dorm mates. I know Adam is a good man.”

Hazel looked at nurse Leslie writing some notes down on the paper attached to her clipboard. Even when she was writing, both of her eyes didn’t seem to focus. Unable to suppress her curiosity, Hazel had to ask. “What happened to your eyes?”

With a smile, nurse Leslie sat down in the chair by the bed and put aside her clipboard. “I have a glass eye. My right one.”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell. I knew something was different but I never would’ve guessed. I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Hazel said, apologetically.

“Not at all,” nurse Leslie said. “When I was 10 years old, I was playing outside in the street. Then a carriage came, the horses speeding by. They didn’t see me so near. I was knocked down and the carriage ran over my head. My right eye couldn’t be saved, so I was fitted with a glass eye.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Hazel exclaimed.

“The other kids were cruel to me too. They called me “Cyclops,” nurse Leslie said.

“How dreadful,” Hazel cried. “How can kids be so cruel?”

“I don’t know either…besides their parents never taught them better,” nurse Leslie said. “But I know what it’s like when school kids are cruel to you for being different.”

“Yes, you do,” Hazel acknowledged.

“But don’t let their bullying and cruelties change who you are, Hazel. That’s the only way they can ever win over you…if you allow yourself to become as hardhearted and insensitive as they are. Keep on writing your poetry and being as sensitive as you are. They will never win over you as long as you remain true to who you are and to the kind of person you want to be,” Leslie said wisely.

“Thank-you nurse Leslie. I promise you and I promise myself that I won’t let them change me. I’ve always believed that I would rather my heart be hurt than to be hardened. Being sensitive is my strength…I won’t give that up or let them take that from me,” Hazel said determinedly.

“I’m sure Adam wouldn’t want you any other way too,” Leslie said with another discerning smile.

“I wouldn’t want him to want me any other way either,” Hazel said and blushed.

Just then a knock sounded at the door. Leslie went over to the door and opened it.

“Come in Adam. You may take Hazel home now,” Leslie said with a smile.

Hazel stood up from the bed and wavered slightly. Adam was right there and took hold of her arm. “Hazel, are you sure you’re well enough to leave?” He asked in concern.

“Oh yes, Adam. I never have good balance, and then having a panic attack even after I’ve mostly recovered from it, just makes it worse” Hazel explained with a smile.

“Just take it easy when you get home,” Leslie said.

“I’ll see that she does,” Adam said as he took Hazel’s arm and linked it through his left. Together they left Harvard. Winter’s cool breath helped to clear up Hazel’s lingering queasiness. But Adam helped to heal her most of all.

 

Chapter 11…Finding Beauty in Imperfection

Mahogany paneling framed the parlor in Professor Meadows’ residence where Adam Cartwright waited. The elegant design of the grand piano and the graceful contours of the dusky rose sofa set off the room. A chandelier ornamented with crystal icicle pendants and bulbs all aglow, threw golden silhouettes upon the ivory walls throughout the parlor, accentuating the fluid drape of the velvet burgundy curtains and the golden brocade cords that kept them tethered away from the window.

Adam sipped his bandy as he looked at the gingerbread clock sitting on the fireplace mantle. 4 pm. The clock’s lyrical chimes signaled the allotted time to Adam.

Just before departing his last class of the day, “The Theory of Architectural Design”, his Professor had handed him a note. It simply said that Professor Meadows wanted to see him at his residence, 4 pm sharp. The note was short and curt and missing Professor Meadows’ usual joviality. It filled Adam with a certain foreboding, but he didn’t really wonder what it was pertaining to. Most likely, he had heard about Hazel’s panic attack yesterday.

The soft-soled tread on the plush red carpet was Adam’s cue that the Professor was approaching. Then the parlor’s double doors opened and Adam could see by Professor Meadows’ dour demeanor that this was not to be the start of a friendly meeting.

“Professor Meadows. Good evening, sir,” Adam greeted.

“Good evening, Adam,” the Professor said as he poured himself a brandy. “Let me get right to the issue at hand. I think it’s best…if you stayed away from Hazel from now on.”

Adam was crestfallen at this new development, but not surprised. He remembered all the persuasion it took for him to allow Adam to proceed with his project for The Chocolate Bookworm, how hard it was for the Professor to allow Hazel to get involved in the first place.

“Please, sir, don’t do that. I love her. And she loves me. I will do anything to help her,” Adam softly pleaded.

“Your love didn’t seem to help her yesterday. I warned you about this. I told you how easily my daughter gets overwhelmed around other people,” the Professor said, his normally jovial voice hardened.

“That’s because you’ve kept Hazel cloistered away in this house, away from people, as if she were something to be ashamed of,” Adam said, the sternness in his own voice rising.

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner!”

“Because it’s the truth. You’ve never believed in her abilities and have even taught her to doubt herself. Hazel has tremendous talent as a poet. But you’ve never expressed any interest in her or her gifts. Instead, you’ve discouraged her in anything she wanted to do outside of this house. Now why is that?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, you insolent pup,” the Professor said, his anger roused.

A few moments passed in which neither spoke. Then in a calm voice, Professor Meadows said quietly “I only wanted to protect her from the cruelties of others. I’ve seen how the kids picked on her. It’s not much different than a chick that’s been born different in some way. The other chickens swarm around it, pecking at it, pecking on the different chicken incessantly, they will keep on swarming and pecking away…until finally it’s been pecked to death. I’ve seen that happen too.”

Adam didn’t say anything. He had witnessed the same thing on his father’s ranch in Nevada. How deformed animals are rejected by the herd and cast out of the community.

“Professor, why didn’t Hazel receive treatment for her clubfoot as a baby? I know her shoe and brace help, and the massage she does in the evenings. But even Hippocrates knew that this condition should be treated as soon as possible after birth,” Adam said. The Professor remained silent for a moment, then when he spoke Adam could hear his weariness.

“It was during a period of personal upheaval for me. When I first married Alice, our life together was good…but that period of bliss didn’t last long and soon I noticed Alice’s unstable nature. I couldn’t stand to watch her downward spiral nor could I endure anymore of her emasculatory abuse…I had to get away. And so, I did. I started taking my expeditions to Rome, Egypt, China, Africa…but it was during my expedition to Greece that was the longest.”

“I was only supposed to be gone six for months, but the ship I was on, The Helios, had trouble at sea during my return. The captain had to turn back to Greece or risk being boarded by pirates. But then a storm started – the fiercest I’ve ever seen – we were at her mercy. We were stuck between Scylla and Charybdis, as the Greeks would say, meaning there was danger behind and before us.”

“To make a long story short, we finally managed to return to Greece. But by the time I had found another ship and booked passage and returned…I was gone two years.”

“And when I returned…Alice introduced me to my daughter. I never knew she was with child when I left and I don’t think she knew she was carrying either. But there she was, not yet two years old. I was overjoyed. But right away I could sense a cold indifference in Alice. She never spoke a kind loving word to her, only did what was necessary for her, nothing more. She didn’t love her. I looked at this child and saw a little girl with curls of burnished gold and eyes that reminded me of the soft applause of the sea. But all Alice saw was her clubfoot. The child’s “ugly wickedness” as she called it. “A defect of our defective marriage’ was another way she put it.”

“Even at Hazel’s young age, I could tell that she was afraid of her mother. Being the sensitive child that she was, she easily picked up on the tension and stress at home, the anxiety that was constantly insinuating the air around her. That’s when her panic attacks first started.”

“As for her clubfoot, Alice didn’t want anything to do with her. And I was so racked with guilt for being away so long…and I think a part of me believed Alice’s deranged claims that her deformity was a punishment from God for being away so much…so I never looked into treatment for Hazel.”

“It’s not a good reason or explanation, and it leaves me ashamed. But there you have it Adam,” Professor Meadows said in defeat at the conclusion of his story.

“Professor, you mustn’t blame yourself,” Adam said. “I don’t believe this is a punishment from God. No wonder Hazel feels the need to apologize for having a panic attack. You raised her to be afraid and to feel guilty for being how she is,” Adam couldn’t stop the anger from tainting his words.

“Be that as it may, I don’t want you to continue this relationship with my daughter. You must stop it before it goes any further,” Professor Meadows said dismissively, turning his back on Adam so he didn’t have to see the hurt in the young man’s eyes. Before Adam had a chance to respond, another voice spoke up.

“No Papa, we will not stop. Adam loves me and I love him. With all my heart,” Hazel spoke soft but with a glint of steel in her words. Both Adam and her father turned at the sound of her voice.

There was Hazel standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. She was in her west-wing apartment tending to her clubfoot, massaging it to stretch the tendons and then bandaging it as was her evening routine, when she heard voices. Angry voices. Hearing her name mentioned, she knew that she was at the heart of the discussion. So, she followed the voices to the parlor and heard enough of the discussion to know what it was about.

She was dressed in a forest green velvet dress, the waves of her hair flowing freely around her shoulders to ripple down her back. Her left foot was bare and her right freshly bandaged, but for once she wasn’t hiding her right foot behind her left. Hazel’s soft-spoken voice had a backbone of strength behind it. Though she was of a petite build, as she stood framed in the doorway to the parlor she suddenly seemed taller and much more surer of herself…like a pixie embroidering her way through the darkest solstice night on a ribbon of moonlight. That was Hazel: a unique cocktail of softness and stubbornness, sensitivity and strength. To Adam, Hazel had never been more beautiful.

“Hazel,” Adam said upon seeing his beloved. His eyes caressed her as Hazel smiled back, and limping towards him, she took Adam’s outstretched hand.

“Hazel! Go back to your room,” her father ordered.

“No,” she said simply. Her normally shy soft-spoken voice now rang out calm and clear, fortified into a crystal of strength. For so long – too long – had Hazel’s voice been muzzled. She was never allowed to say no to Papa, and certainly not to her Mama. Now, for the first time, Hazel found her voice once Adam had shown her the way, and she would not be muzzled again. She found it quite liberating to say that one simple word: no.

“How dare you talk back to me in that disrespectful tone!”

“There is nothing disrespectful in standing up for myself,” Hazel continued crystal clear. “And there is nothing disrespectful in drawing boundaries and saying no.”

“So, no Papa, you will not order me to be quiet and no, you will not order me to go back to my room. I’m not a child,” Hazel said, standing tall beside Adam. “Though I love you, you don’t know me. You have never expressed any interest in me, besides buying me books and writing tablets to keep me ‘entertained.’”

“It has always hurt me that you never stood up against Mama in my defense. But most of all it hurt me that even after her death, you never involved yourself in me. You never were interested in what I was doing, as long as I was kept out of sight and didn’t embarrass you. Never once have you expressed any interest in reading my poetry,” Hazel said with tears glistening in her eyes.

“With Adam, I finally met someone who can look beyond my deformity and see me for the person I am. Adam loves me as I am. And he is interested in my poetry writing too.”

“Hazel, I know I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been, but I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt,” Professor Meadows said, the pain in his voice was evident.

“I know you do. But to heal you have to risk getting hurt. That’s a risk I’m willing to take…with Adam by my side,” Hazel said as she looked at Adam beside her.

“Hazel, I’m with you all the way. I will never leave you. We’re in this together,” Adam said as he took both of Hazel’s hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. “You are my heart,” and with these words, Adam’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss that left them breathless, and for a few moments Adam had forgotten that her father was in the room. Until he cleared his throat, breaking the spell.

“As long as Adam believes in me, I will believe in myself. As long as he doesn’t give up on me, then neither will I. I won’t give up on my dream and The Chocolate Bookworm,” Hazel spoke to her father while still gazing into Adam’s brilliant eyes, their hands laced together.

“I love you Hazel,” Adam said.

“I’ll go back to The Chocolate Bookworm. I won’t let the fear of a panic attack stop me.”

“We’ll go back. Together. I told you, I won’t leave you alone with all this.”

“Thank-you Adam. Your love has healed me most of all,” Hazel said as she melted into Adam’s warm embrace.

 

Chapter 12…Days of Chocolate and Poetry

The days blossoms one after the other, until the first two weeks of The Chocolate Bookworm’s grand opening became a beauteous bouquet fragranced with chocolate and poetry, and held together with a ribbon of love.

Adam thought that the best thing to do would be to ease Hazel into The Chocolate Bookworm’s society slowly and carefully. So, after a discussion with Melody, it was decided that she would do most of the selling and interacting with customers until Hazel was more comfortable and was better able to handle being around people.

Though, Hazel still did most of the baking. On her good days, she would take a carriage over to Harvard and use the small kitchenette that Adam built for her in The Chocolate Bookworm. She would head over in the mornings or early afternoon before the Café opened, and there in the company of Melody, and sometimes Leslie too, she baked her chocolate creations and taught Melody the recipes as well. She made a ready supply of candy cane hot chocolate, mocha white chocolate tea, chocolate-dipped fruit, mocha pecan pie, truffles and cookies of assorted varieties, and of course Adam’s favorite hazelnut chocolate shortbread.

On days when Hazel’s mind felt too easily overwhelmed and not able to deal with being around so many people, she would bake at home and send over the baked goods in the afternoon.

Adam was so proud of Hazel and could see how she was blossoming and growing under his love. Like a flower thirsty for the sun, so was Hazel to Adam. When Adam thought of Hazel in terms of being a beauteous flower blossoming under his shower of love, a certain quote by Lord Tennyson kept waltzing through Adam’s mind: If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever. Tennyson’s quote described perfectly how Adam thought of Hazel, how important she had become to him. He continued to water her with his nourishing love and nurturing affection as they continued to grow close.

Still, every night Adam came over to be with Hazel and together they shared a dessert tray of poetry and intimate talk. A libation of kisses that left both feeling drunk on the most potent liquor that either had ever tasted.

Though Professor Meadows wasn’t happy with Adam continuing to see his daughter. The stoic silence and glare that met Adam when he came over, told him of the Professor’s displeasure. Still, he didn’t do anything to stop Adam. At least not outwardly. He knew to do so would just alienate Hazel, and she was his only family. So, the Professor just tolerated Adam’s courtship of his daughter.

It was an uncomfortable situation when he would first arrive at the house, but once he stole himself away inside Hazel’s west-wing apartment, and his heart was festooned with hers, her disapproving father and the rest of the world fell away. To them, Adam and Hazel, they were the only two who existed in their world. And their love would not be denied.

After two weeks of The Chocolate Bookworm being in business, Adam thought they were due for a special celebration, so when he went over to Hazel’s the next night, he brought with him some ‘special provisions’ for a surprise celebration.

As the full moon illuminated the night sky with her golden warmth, casting forth her glow throughout the celestial hearthside where she reigned, Adam arrived. At the intimate rhythm of his knock on her west-wing door, Hazel answered.

“Adam,” she breathed. How the sight of this man on her doorstep never failed to thrill her heart and rejuvenate her senses. She hoped these feelings would never stop.

“Hazel,” Adam’s deep voice greeted her as he stepped through her doorway. He barely had time to put down the bag he was carrying before Hazel was in front of him, her hands sliding up his chest to circle around Adam’s neck, while he slipped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

“Hazel, I just came in from the cold. I don’t want to get you cold too,” Adam whispered huskily into her hair as he breathed in her fresh scent.

“I never feel cold when I’m with you. Just the opposite…” Hazel remarked with the shyness that Adam still found so charming. For the moment no words were necessary to express how they felt as Adam’s mouth sought the eager yielding of hers and made his claim.

Parting, breathlessly and a little reluctantly, Adam released Hazel and stepped back before he forgot that he was a gentleman. He picked up the bag again to carry into her apartment and placed it on the table.

“What did you bring?” She asked as she limped behind him into the room.

“Just some supplies for our celebration,” Adam replied, exuding the charm of his smile that showed off to perfection those delectable dimples of his.

“Celebration? What are we celebrating?” Hazel asked, perplexed.

“My dear Hazel! I’m shocked! Don’t you know what day it is?” Adam exclaimed in mock horror.

Hazel just looked at him as she tried to think of what special day had escaped her notice.

“Today is the two-week anniversary of The Chocolate Bookworm,” Adam said with a smile.

Hazel returned his smile, then laughed. “So it is! How could I forget the birthday of our baby?”

“And so, in honor of ‘our baby’, the birthday of The Chocolate Bookworm, I brought pink champagne,” Adam said as he pulled out the bottle from the bag. Then, also pulling out a package from the bag he said “and what’s better to have with pink champagne then…”

“Strawberries!” Hazel exclaimed, finishing Adam’s sentence.

Adam chuckled. “Right. So now we have pink champagne and strawberries.” Adam uncorked the bottle as Hazel retrieved the glasses.

She also brought over a plate and placed it on the table next to the strawberries. “Our favorite hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookies. I just baked them this afternoon,” she said with a smile.

“The finishing touch to a perfect celebration,” Adam replied.

Hazel looked at the bubbling beverage that Adam poured in the long-stemmed crystal glasses. It fizzed and frothed just like Hazel’s heart did with love for this man. So moved was she by thinking of everything that Adam had done for her during the five weeks they had known each other, and the love that had blossomed between them, now tears misted her eyes.

“Thank-you Adam, for believing in me,” she said, speaking with all sincerity from the depths of her heart.

“You’ve always had it in you,” Adam replied, touched by the emotion he saw quivering in her tear-misty eyes.

“But you were the first to believe in me. It’s important to have someone believe in you besides just yourself, to help you carry the dream…and you believed in me even when my own father wouldn’t.”

“Here now. No tears tonight,” Adam soothed as he dipped a plump strawberry into the champagne and then bit into it, offering the other half to Hazel. “Have a strawberry,” he said softly, his voice a lush caress as he held the strawberry to Hazel’s slightly parted lips. She took a bite of the red juicy fruit, her eyes locked on Adam’s. Then, seeing a trickle of strawberry juice at the side of his mouth, she caught the sweet liquid on her index finger and placed her finger in front of Adam’s mouth in silent supplication, he sucked her finger of the strawberry juice. It only lasted a second or two before he released her finger, but it felt like Time was frozen for those seconds before melting forward again. Both were silent, but they felt the sizzle of the intimacy that had just occurred between them. Then Adam moved in slowly and kissed Hazel’s rosy lips, savoring their taste of champagne and strawberries. Afterwards, he held her head against his chest.

“I love you,” he heard her say. Her soft voice romancing his heart with the purity of her words.

“And I love you. Now come over here and I’ll start up the fire.” Adam led Hazel over to the sofa and she watched as he kindled the fire. Once stirred to life, the embers glowed and flickered, the renewed flames breathed and sighed around the wood.

Then Adam stretched out on the plush throw rug on the floor in front of the fire. His back was propped up against the front of the sofa where Hazel was sitting. Her legs were in front of her, to the left of Adam on the floor.

Once she would’ve done everything she could to hide her deformed foot and lameness, most often by sliding her right clubfoot behind her left, but with the growing intimacy between her and Adam she no longer felt the need to. There was no denying it, Hazel could feel her heart start to heal in Adam’s presence. She could sense the difference in herself and saw how her confidence had sprouted upward. There was no way that she could’ve stood up to Papa the way she did nearly two weeks ago, before Adam came into her life.

They had spent so much time together, almost every evening of the five weeks that they’ve known each other. Though the kisses they shared were growing more frequent and the intimacy between them was undoubtedly growing too, Adam never blurred the boundaries of courting, never had taken liberties with her, never forgot that he was a gentleman. And he always treated Hazel like a lady.

Hazel didn’t know that it was possible to feel so much love for another person and not be consumed by the intensity of its ardor…but that’s how it was. Hazel actually felt like Adam was an extension of her heart. And Adam felt the same way about her. He said so. He had told her that she was his heart. Right in front of her father too. But isn’t that what love was about…to love something greater outside of yourself?

Lightly with his hand, Adam caressed Hazel’s withered right calf and shin that was by his shoulder. Up to her knee and then back down to her twisted ankle, he stroked her deformed lower leg in the most loving way. Hazel’s breath caught in her throat as she grew warm from the delicious friction. Then, realizing that this might proceed further than he intended, Adam stopped and removed his hand…instead placing a warm kiss to smolder where his hand had been. Then Adam looked up into Hazel’s face, his eyes never breaking contact with hers.

Hazel tingled from the intimate contact of Adam’s lips on her lame leg that left her with the scrumptious sensation she was melting from the inside. Now, with the steady gaze of his eyes looking into the sky-lit depths of her fluid orbs, Hazel still felt like Adam was touching her – but only with his eyes this time.

“Come here,” he said, his voice was a rumble, low and intimate, as he opened his arms to her.

Hazel slid down from the sofa and Adam’s strong arms gathered her close to his left side, her head resting on his shoulder.

For the longest time they stayed in that reclining pose in front of the softly crackling fire, drinking pink champagne and feeding each other strawberries and their favorite hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookies. No words were needed. They both knew how the other felt.

“I wrote a poem about you earlier today,” Hazel said softly.

“Another poem about me,” Adam smiled as he caressed her hair.

“You inspire me,” Hazel said simply. She was always honest when talking about her love.

Adam lightly chuckled, then kissing her hair he said “I’d love to hear your poem, my dear Hazel.”

Hazel read her poem “Awakening.”  She didn’t have the paper in front of her, she didn’t need to for the words were inscribed upon her heart:

   “I am grateful for the waves of love that caress the limitless shores of my heart in melodious cascades whenever I think of you, you who are the only one to make my heart sparkle…”

“Oh Hazel,” Adam said her name like a caress as he kissed her temple and held her close. He was moved beyond words by the depth of feeling that Hazel expressed so eloquently in her poetry. Especially in her poems that she wrote about him.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you…” Adam began as Hazel looked up at him. “The school is having a Valentine’s dance next week on February 14^th…and it would pleasure me very much if you would give me the honor of escorting you to the dance as my date.”

“But Adam…I can’t dance,” Hazel said uncertainly.

“Leave that to me…”

 

Chapter 13…The Butterfly Emerges

The snow was packed down like pancakes under the wagon wheels of the carriage as it travelled through Boston’s cobblestoned streets. Hazel looked out the window at the shawl of warm white that Lady Winter had cast upon the buildings of the ever-growing city of Boston.

“Hazel, are you doing alright?” Hazel turned to see Melody looking at her with kindness in her deep blue eyes, her rouged full lips turned into a gentle smile as she laid her gloved hand on Hazel’s bare one.

“Yes, I’m fine…just a little nervous,” she said, trying for a smile of her own. She looked over at Leslie sitting on the opposite seat in the carriage.

“You’re going to be fine,” Leslie assured.

Hazel nodded, chewing on her bottom lip in her nervousness.

It had taken quite a bit of persuasion on Adam’s part to get Hazel to agree about accompanying him to the Valentine’s dance at Harvard. At first, she was confused, even dismayed that he would propose such a thing. He knew the difficulties she had walking with her deformed clubfoot, he knew the pain it caused her and how she couldn’t put weight on it, he knew how often she had to stop to rest by a tree or sit on a snowbank. Or a bench if she could find one. Yet, still he asked her to go with him to the Valentine’s dance. He had asked her in such a gallant way, even poetic, and with the light of love illuminating his green-brown eyes. How Hazel yearned to say yes. In fact, she yearned to say ‘yes, nothing would please me more than to go to the Valentine’s dance with you, Adam. A thousand times yes!’ She wished she could make such a pledge as she threw herself into his strong enveloping arms. Instead, tears sparkled in her eyes, because she knew she couldn’t respond the way her heart urged her to. She couldn’t dance. Did she really need to remind Adam of this fact?

But Adam, ever kind and loving as was his inherent way, just said “Trust me. Leave it all to me. I want to walk into the dance with the most beautiful girl in the world on my arm,” and then he held her close and kissed her, his lips a tempting proposal of their own, one in which Hazel’s inexperienced lips wished to taste more as they partook of their sweet delectable promise.

How could Hazel say no when he asked her to trust him? She never trusted anyone in her life as much as she trusted Adam.

So now, here she was in the carriage with Melody and Leslie as they took her shopping for a dress. Over the past two weeks since The Chocolate Bookworm’s opening, Hazel had gotten to know Melody. At first, she was just a business associate, the fiancé of Adam’s dorm-mate Ashton, who had agreed to help Hazel out when she learned from Adam of her “difficulties”. Melody enjoyed baking as much as Hazel did and she had studied poetry in finishing school, so it was a relief to Hazel that they had common interests. Melody was also easy to talk to and seemed to genuinely enjoy Hazel’s company.

Since her panic attack at Harvard, Hazel had also gotten to know Leslie, the campus nurse. Often, she would come over to The Chocolate Bookworm on her off-duty hours to help out.

Adam had asked them to help Hazel prepare for the dance and to take her shopping for a dress. Both Melody and Leslie knew how nervous Hazel was in just thinking about attending the Valentine’s dance, not to mention the dress and her anxiety over it. Melody and Leslie assured Adam that Hazel would be fine in their capable hands as they made plans for their shopping excursion.

Melody had directed the driver to take them to a district in Boston renowned for its abundance of dress and fashion stores. Once the carriage arrived at their destination, the three ladies exited with the assistance of the coachman.

Inside the shop, Hazel had never seen anything like it. There were bolts of fabrics of every kind. Chiffon; velvet; paisley; calico. And more. There were mannequins wearing dresses of the most elaborate designs while others were simpler. There were adornments for the hair or the body made to compliment specific dresses. Hazel felt like she entered a fantasyland.

With the assistance of the shopkeeper, Constance, Hazel was shown several dresses. She only had to try on a few before she found The One for her.

It was pink chiffon and flowed down to just above her ankles. Hazel was relieved that it was long enough to hide her brace and most of her custom-made orthopaedic shoes. The bodice was pink with sequins that shone like a bonanza of jewels leading every which way from her heart-shaped neckline to her waist. There was a layer of the sheerest gossamer draped in folds about her waist; it gave Hazel that “fairy-look” that so charmed Adam.

“And now for the final touch,” Melody said as she placed a silver butterfly comb in her hair, one on each side to hold back the dusky curtain of her tresses. Hazel looked at her reflection, in awe of her transformation. ‘Is that really me,’ she thought to herself. She didn’t think anything else could be added to her physical assembly to increase her metamorphosis…until she saw Leslie looking through the accessory racks and came behind her with her find.

“Not quite the final touch. Look what I found Melody,” Leslie declared gleefully.

“Oh! Those are perfect! Look Hazel,” Melody said as she took the accessory from Leslie. Hazel looked and couldn’t believe what she saw. Melody was holding a pair of butterfly wings. Giant iridescent rainbow butterfly wings that were made to fit on the back of a lady’s shoulder blades. Their gossamer wingspan sprouted out and fluttered downward from Hazel as Melody and Leslie attached them to her.

“It’s time for the butterfly to emerge from her chrysalis,” Leslie said as she stood at Hazel’s side just behind her.

“Is that really me?” Hazel said, struck with wonder as she finally gave voice to the thought that kept plaguing her.

“It sure is,” Melody exclaimed happily.

“It always was you honey,” Leslie said proudly.

Hazel’s eyes filled with tears. She had watched her metamorphosis take place right before her eyes while it was reflected back to her in the shop’s full-length mirror. But she could barely believe that this beautiful girl in the mirror was her. Hazel had never felt beautiful before. She was always the ugly one, the clumsy and awkward one. At least, that’s how she felt as she endured her Mama’s abuse for all those lonely years, and the cruelties of other children, then being ignored by Papa. She always felt like she was ugly, even insignificant and certainly nothing special. And now to see this beautiful vision in the mirror just left Hazel breathless in astonishment.

But she knew what Adam would say. “The only ugly people in your life were the ones who treated you so despicably. Your Mama and those other kids were sicker than even they knew, they were the ones who were deformed and ugly – but in their minds. Don’t take their sickness into you Hazel,” Adam said to her more than once during their time together. Then he would enclose his strong arms about her, holding her close. Hazel truly felt she was beautiful when Adam held her like that, gift-wrapped in his ever loving, protective embrace. There was no other place in the world she would rather be.

And now upon seeing her reflection, Hazel vowed that she would not spoil the moment of her metamorphosis by thinking of the past and dwelling on those old wounds. She would just think of Adam and his love and how his golden viridescent eyes would light up when he saw her transformation. Hazel truly felt like a butterfly freshly emerged from her chrysalis.

“I look beautiful,” she said and smiled through unshed tears.

“You always were honey,” Leslie replied, her arm around Hazel’s shoulders.

 

Chapter 14…Imprisoned Butterfly

The clock on the mantle whispered the minutes of our lives ticking by, moments broken down into a minuet of seconds, their timeless dance-steps barely heard by the casual observer. But Hazel was well aware of Time’s passage, its adamant forward – march not to be denied.

The only thing that could compete with the rhythm of Time’s tempo was the beating of Hazel’s heart as she dressed for the Valentine’s dance. She could hear it loud and incessant in her ears, a reminder of her mortality and the moments that made up our lives. A reminder to make each moment count, and to cherish the special ones. And this evening’s Valentine’s dance definitely fell into that category of extra special moments and life-altering occasions.

Hazel felt blessed by Melody and Leslie’s friendship. She never had a friend before…not before Adam, and through Adam she made her first lady friends. Adam had made such a difference in her life and in her heart, Hazel inwardly reflected as she put on her dress, and just as grandly had Melody and Leslie made a difference in Hazel’s life by showing her that she wasn’t alone anymore and that there were good people who would not reject her because of her deformity. She was no longer the outcast of society. She no longer had to hide away like some uncivilized freak such as her Papa inadvertently made her feel by keeping her inside and by excluding her from special social events. For instance, dances, and in particular this dance if he had his way.

When she came home from her shopping excursion, she went straight to her west-wing rooms and hung up her dress and wings in her closet, not even stopping to show Papa. She didn’t want to give him the chance to say anything negative about her dress or Adam, and especially she didn’t want to hear his negative slant on her attending the Valentine’s dance.

She didn’t show Adam her dress and accessories either…but for totally different reasons. Hazel wanted to surprise him.

Hazel wanted to see the verdant aura of his eyes peak with the gold of his appreciation when he first saw her metamorphosis. As she knew they would.

Lately, as the intimacy of their relationship evolved, Hazel could see so many emotions flicker in Adam’s eyes. Love, appreciation…desire. Just as Adam could see the same ignite in her blue-grey eyes. So in tune were they to each other, often when they were together they didn’t need to speak. They already knew what the other was thinking and feeling. Instead of words, a kiss would do, in fact it was much preferred by both.

So, Hazel dressed. Not even the slight trembling of her fingers could hinder her metamorphosis from an ordinary everyday caterpillar to an exquisite iridescent butterfly freshly emerged from her chrysalis.

She admired herself in the full-length mirror in the hallway outside of her bedroom, the same mirror where Adam took her and stood so intimately close behind her with his big hands, so strong yet so gentle, around her willowy waist. Adam had told Hazel what virtues he saw in her as he swept back her hair and left a fiery trail of kisses along the gentle slope of her neck.

Hazel sighed with the delicious memory that was thoroughly penetrated by Adam’s intimacy. A warm tingling spread through her nether regions, her creamy skin took on a rosy hue and her eyes sparkled with anticipation of the night ahead.

Lost as she was in her reverie of Adam, she didn’t hear the soft-padded footsteps approach her apartment door. But footsteps, soft and determined, were drawing near…then stopped. Hazel didn’t hear their stealthy advance, nor the foreboding of when they ceased. She wasn’t aware that a force was out to clip her wings…until she heard a key turn in the lock of her door.

Startled at the sound, Hazel hobbled to the door, tried to turn the knob but found it locked. She grew frantic at her predicament as the cold realization of who was behind her imprisonment chilled her to the marrow.

“Papa?!” She cried as she kept on trying to turn the doorknob while pounding on the door with her fist.

“Papa, let me out! Don’t do this to me!”

“I’m sorry Hazel. But it’s for your own good,” she heard him mumble as his footsteps retreated down the hallway, the sound soon muffled by austere silence.

“No Papa, no,” Hazel cried as angry tears coursed down her flushed cheeks. Then she slid down the inside of the door to sit crumpled on the floor as she looked upward, silently searching for an answer to her predicament, but feeling very much like a butterfly with a broken wing.

 

Chapter 15…Damsel In Distress

The house was dark when Adam arrived. He drew up the horse-drawn cutter to the front, the blades of the sleigh stopped smoothly and much more quietly than would the wagon wheels of a carriage. Knowing of Hazel’s romantic heart, he thought it would make this Valentine’s night all the more special to pick her up in a single horse-drawn cutter. It was smaller – only big enough for two people to fit comfortably – but he knew its small size would add to the intimacy of the night and would greatly appeal to the romantic poet who lived in Hazel.

During the short journey from Cambridge and across the bridge to Boston, the blades of the cutter sliced through the mounds of glittering snow as smoothly as a knife through freshly churned butter. Adam looked over the side of the bridge as the cutter crossed it and saw islands of ice floating down the Charles River. During the few Winters that Adam had spent in the eastern state of Massachusetts, and all the Winters that his grandfather Stoddard had told him about, the Charles River never froze over completely and every Winter anyone foolish enough to attempt to ice skate or in any way venture onto the surface, lost their lives to the River’s illusion of safety. This Winter, Adam had only heard of two fatalities. He hoped there wouldn’t be anymore.

The earth’s pulsebeat was much slower during Winter than at any other time of the year, but still did Adam hear its muffled rhythm in his ears – or was it his own heart beating in anticipation of this night and what he had planned for Hazel?

But as he looked at the darkened house an ominous feeling cast its anchor upon Adam, holding down his spirit that was so buoyed only moments before with the prickly fingers of dread. No light broke the dark cast of the windows, no sound stole the silence from within. Even without attempting to knock on the door, he knew there would be no answer.

Instead, Adam got out of the cutter, gave the red roan mare a stroke along her neck as her breath warmed the chilly air before her, then rather proceeding to the front door Adam walked along the perimeter of the Meadows’ property.

There, amongst all the dark windows, one glowed within. Its golden light casted forth an aura of warmth through the glass to mingle with Winter’s cozy blue shadows tiptoeing over the snowy mounds. It was Hazel’s bedroom window.

Adam went over to the ground floor window and listened. He could hear sounds from within. The only sounds to disturb the quiet that weighed heavily over the rest of the house. Adam gently tapped at the window with his fingers. Abruptly, the sounds stopped for a heartbeat’s pause, then he heard a burst of a scurry within and a flutter of the curtains as the window slid open.

“Adam!” Hazel gasped upon seeing him outside her bedroom window. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt with his black silk ribbon tie knotted elegantly at the front. Grey pants and blazer and a grey bowler hat completed the picture of the perfect gentleman’s outfit. Except that Adam hadn’t shaved that night. Normally of course, he would’ve shaved before a dance, but Adam learned long ago from the increasing intimacy between them, how much Hazel loved him unshaved…with one or two days’ worth of dark stubble gracing his manly jaw. How Hazel loved to lightly run the petal-soft pads of her fingers over the sandpaper roughness of his jaw and neck…

His eyes lighted with a lush spring warmth as he drank her in. The pink chiffon of her dress with its layers of gossamer frothing around her waist, the sequins of her bodice twinkling like a cluster of earthbound iridescent stars. She looked like a fairy too rich for this earthly drama. But her disheveled dusky tresses and the trails of dried tears on her cheeks told him of her distress before he arrived at her window.

Seeing Adam taking in her appearance, Hazel smoothed back a few stray dusky tendrils of her hair. “I know, I must look horrible,” she said self-consciously.

“You look beautiful. Just as you are,” Adam said truthfully. Hazel just smiled her appreciation and basked under the pure warmth of his presence.

“Stand back now. I’m coming in,” he said, as with one arm on either side of the window frame he lifted himself up the six feet until he was sitting in her open window. Then he swung his legs around to the inside of her bedroom and landed on his feet as gracefully as a cat.

“Oh, Adam,” Hazel cried as she fell into his open arms, breathing in his male scent of leather and spice. Immediately, his arms enveloped her, holding her close.

“Be careful you don’t crush my wings,” Hazel said.

“What?” Adam exclaimed, startled, as he took a step back to look at her.

“Careful of my wings,” Hazel said with a silvery laugh at Adam’s expression.

“Now that’s a new one for me,” Adam said as he released her and took in the vision of Hazel and her shimmering rainbow butterfly wings. Never had a lady ever told him to be careful of her wings. Adam just smiled indulgently at their unique exchange as he carefully straightened up the flowing drape of her giant gossamer butterfly wings and the one misshapen left wing he inadvertently crushed a bit in his embrace.

“There, you go. My beautiful butterfly,” Adam said as he finished. Then with his hands on her shoulders he pulled her into him – being careful not to crush her wings again – and his perfect butterfly-shaped mouth engaged Hazel’s in a kiss so smolderingly sensuous that Hazel didn’t care if he crushed her wings or not, so long as Adam continued to kiss her.

Breathlessly, they parted. Knowing he had to get to the heart of her distress he asked “Now tell me what happened.”

“Papa locked me in! I knew he wasn’t happy with me going to the Valentine’s dance, but I never thought he would take such drastic measures to keep us apart,” Hazel said, distraught again at her imprisonment as she thought back to the distress she was feeling only moments before Adam appeared at her bedroom window.

“I never thought Professor Meadows would take such action either,” Adam said, his black brows furrowed in concern as he went to Hazel’s front door and tried the knob. It was securely locked.

“Did he say anything?” Adam asked as he turned to her, his acute mind at work to find a solution to their dilemma.

“I heard him say that it’s for my own good as he walked back down the hall after locking me in. Other than that, he hasn’t said a word to me since.”

“The house was completely dark when I drove up,” Adam mused.

“I think he retired for the night. He must’ve surmised that there was no way you could get to me, so there was no need to stand guard after he soundly locked me in. It’s Mr. Abrams’ night off too.”

“Well then, we’ll just leave the same way that I came in. Through the window,” Adam said as he went to Hazel’s window and opened it all the way, looking at the mechanism of the casement and then the six-foot drop to the ground.

“The window? I’ve never gone through a window before,” Hazel said with a little laugh, but loving how determined Adam was in not letting her father keep them apart.

Hazel retrieved her custom-made orthopaedic burgundy boots by the front door, then limping back into her bedroom she sat on the side of her bed to put them on. She had already massaged and freshly bandaged her right clubfoot earlier that night. Hazel was lucky enough to find some pink fabric in her sewing basket and had the idea to bandage her foot in strips of this pink cotton. She hated the thought of these bulky boots marring the fairy-like appearance of her dress and was happy that the dress was long enough to cover her brace and most of her boots. At least her boots were burgundy – a shade of red – so whatever showed of her boots its color would compliment her pink dress. Now with the pink bandages she made from that spare fabric earlier today, she was even more color-coordinated.

As Hazel was putting on her boots and buckling the brace near the top of her right withered calf and shin just below her knee, she saw Adam retrieve a pocket knife from his jacket.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“To remove the window pane. I’m not sure you could get through the window with your wings and besides, I wouldn’t want you to tear your dress going out the window as it is. It will be much easier going out the window with this sliding pane removed,” Adam explained as he worked at removing the screws from the window with his pocket knife.

Hazel just looked at him in amazement. “You seem to be quite skillful at removing a lady’s bedroom window with a pocket knife. You’ve done this before?” Hazel asked coyly.

“No. You’re the first,” Adam chuckled. Then, after a few moments more, Adam removed the last of the hardware holding the window pane in place. He leaned the detached frame against the wall.

“Now my butterfly is free to fly,” Adam said with one of his most charming smiles as he turned back to Hazel and held out his hand to her. “Shall we go?” He asked silkily.

Hazel placed her small hand in Adam’s and smiled back as he helped her up. “Now how we’ll do this, is I’ll go out first so I can catch you as you come out,” Adam explained as he turned back to the window, sat down in the opening, and swinging one leg outside and then the other, he lowered himself to the ground as easily as he had entered.

Hazel stood at the open window and looked out. Looked out at the snowy ground and the bushes against the wall of the house wearing their bonnets of snow, looked out at Adam standing there with love shining in his eyes and his arms open to catch her as she jumped. Hazel had never done anything like this before and the unknown made her nervous, but seeing Adam below with his face all aglow with love for her dissipated whatever fears she had.

Never in her life had she trusted anyone as purely as she trusted Adam. She trusted Adam with her life and her heart and with her entire being. Heart, body, soul. So, with that trust fueling her actions and love assuring her that by Adam’s side she belonged, Hazel sat on the edge of the open window as Adam had done and lifted her weakened bad leg to the outside with her hands, followed by her left. Hazel jumped, her wings fluttering behind her.

As promised, Adam caught her, his muscular arms cradling Hazel against him. He kissed her dewy raspberry-rouged lips. In Adam’s arms and with his lips sizzling hers, Hazel didn’t feel the cold of the Winter’s night. In fact, she luxuriated as they swapped body heat. Gift-wrapped in his arms, Hazel never felt warmer and safer. Or more loved.

As if he was setting down a precious jewel, Adam released Hazel, making sure she was firmly on her feet as he did so.

Tucking her right hand into the crook of his left arm, Adam led Hazel safely across the grounds’ snowy architecture to where he had parked the red roan mare and the cutter.

“Oh Adam! It’s so beautiful!” Hazel exclaimed happily upon seeing the cutter and the horse patiently waiting.

“Only the best for you,” Adam smiled his pleasure at Hazel’s joy, as he helped her to settle into the cutter. “Now keep this blanket around you. You will feel the cold much more once we start,” Adam instructed, wrapping a thick wool blanket about Hazel as he also got in and took up the reins.

Hazel couldn’t imagine ever feeling cold again as long as she was with Adam. She was just too juiced up on love’s most intoxicating elixir to feel anything but the all-consuming heat of her love for this man. Her man.

But she did as he instructed and they set off on their way. On their way to the Valentine’s dance…and their future. Would it be a future together? Hazel knew there were a myriad of uncertainties hanging on the horizon of a future together. But for once, Hazel didn’t want to think of them. She just banished them to the outskirts of her mind so she could enjoy being with Adam on this special Valentine’s night…as he took her to her very first dance.

Chapter 16…Valentine’s Dance

The dance Hall at Harvard was illumed with the golden spears of light from a multitude of lamps. Each one casting forth its net of warmth over the students dancing with their respective dates. The ladies were arrayed in colors more brilliant than a Summer garden whose beauty just flourishes under the lavishing attentions of the sun at high noon. No more dashing assembly of gentlemen could be found anywhere than those in attendance at Harvard’s annual Valentine’s dance.

Into this grand ambiance Adam walked in with Hazel on his arm – until she hesitated – her feet frozen in the doorway. Her mood was light and carefree on their journey in the horse-drawn cutter, but then as she entered the room with so many people she could feel the familiar fear bubbling up inside her.

Adam looked at her as she stopped in the entrance, he could recognize the prelude to a panic attack, so with his left arm around her waist, he guided her to a chair in a quiet area against the far wall of the great Hall.

“Adam, I’m sorry…” Hazel began with her usual apology for her nervous disposition.

“Shhh, Hazel, there’s no need to apologize as I told you before. Just let yourself rest. You’ve had quite a lot of excitement for one night, what with being imprisoned in your bedroom by your own father then making your escape with me through your window,” Adam said as he gently caressed her hand enclosed between his.

Hazel giggled. It was certainly a night of firsts for her. But as she looked into the infinite depths of Adam’s eyes, she knew she was alright. She was safe. Most of all, she knew that she was loved. Hazel smiled her appreciation at Adam for his patience and kindness. And most of all for his love.

“I love you,” Hazel said as she felt her fluttery nerves calm down under the genuine warmth of Adam’s smile.

“And I love you,” he said, his baritone voice smoother than chocolate left to melt under the sun.

“Hazel, how are you doing?” Melody asked as she came over, the lilac flowerets sewn onto her dress bouncing lightly about her.

“She’s had an attack of nerves but she’s going to be alright,” Adam said as he continued to caress Hazel’s hand.

“You look beautiful, Hazel,” Melody said with genuine affection.

“I thought you might be nervous tonight, so I brought you some peppermint tea freshly brewed,” Leslie said as she handed the tea cup to Hazel who took it gratefully.

Hazel sipped her tea as she looked from Melody to Leslie. Then Adam. She had friends, Hazel reflected inwardly. After nineteen years of being so alone and isolated, she finally had friends. And a beau. This tender realization pricked her eyes, causing them to mist. But no tears tonight. She wouldn’t allow herself to mar such a breathtakingly beautiful night with tears. But these would be tears of happiness she told herself. Tears of happiness and joy were allowed. She finally had friends, people who genuinely cared about her. Nothing could make her happier. Or so Hazel thought. But the night was still young…

“Are you feeling better?” Adam asked in his inherently kind way.

“Yes,” Hazel answered as she smiled and put down her tea cup.

“Then let’s dance,” Adam said as he stood up and took Hazel’s hand to help her up. She hobbled a few steps, then stopped.

“But Adam, I can’t dance. I really can’t,” Hazel fought down the renewed panic threatening to bubble up inside her again.

“Don’t worry. I can,” Adam said in his reassuring way and with a barely suppressed chuckle. Hazel allowed Adam to lead her onto the dance floor. She didn’t know what he had planned but she knew she was safe with him.

“Do you trust me?” Adam whispered hotly in her ear. Haze’s heart thrilled at the sudden intimacy.

“Completely. Do you really need to ask?” Hazel allowed the last of her nerves to dissipate from her with every gossamer flutter of her butterfly wings. Then Adam pulled her closer into him, until her body molded itself to the contours of his.

Guiding her arms around his neck and with his hands on both sides of her waist, he lifted her up and set her down again, but with her feet on top of his. Then he whirled her around! Adam and Hazel danced just like any other couple. People would think there was nothing different about them if they didn’t look down and notice Hazel’s booted feet on top of Adam’s black cowboy boots.

Hazel giggled, delighted and carefree again, as she danced for the first time in her life. She knew she was safe while Adam whirled and spun around with her. She never knew such pure joy than she did at that moment on the dance floor in Adam’s arms.

 

How I love you with every butterfly flutter

of my heart, tonight the moon is shining

but not nearly as brightly as the full moon

of my love that leaves me deliriously and

deliciously ravished whenever I am caught

in the pure luster of your presence.

 

“Is this your latest poem?” Adam queried, his eyes smoldering with the intimate emotion that her words aroused in him.

“Yes…I just wrote it right now, from my heart to your heart,” Hazel exclaimed, too full with love for Adam to keep it contained. “And I hope these feelings never end.”

“I know there will never be an end to our love. I will always love you, Hazel Meadows.” Then looking deep into the sky-lit cloudy climes of her eyes, their dancing slowed to their own unique rhythm. Only a gentle pulsebeat could be heard between them until Adam asked the question that had been burning inside him all night. “Will you do me the extreme honor of becoming my wife?”

Hazel’s breath caught in her throat…then when she could breathe again there was only one answer, one word her lips knew how to say.

“Yes,” she said jubilantly.

Then Adam sealed their engagement with a kiss as his right arm tightened around Hazel’s waist just under the drape of her wings – holding her closer to him if that was possible – while his left hand slid up her waist to wrap around her shoulders until Hazel was deliciously enclosed in his embrace, like a butterfly in a chrysalis. The only difference being that this butterfly never wanted to leave her chrysalis. Adam’s mouth was gentle upon hers at first, then grew more passionate as the heat that their kiss created soldered their lips together.

Breathlessly, they parted before they got too carried away in the physical expressions of their love. They were still on the dance floor after all.

Then Hazel’s brow furrowed in concern. “What about The Chocolate Bookworm? And when you graduate? Then there’s Papa…”

“Shhh, don’t worry about all that,” Adam reassured as he lifted Hazel up again and set her on top of his feet so they could continue their dance.

“There’s no need to worry. Just enjoy tonight and us. We’re engaged! Think of tonight as our engagement party. Everything will work out, I promise.”

Staring into Adam’s eyes, Hazel lost herself to their midsummer fire. She saw his soul reflected in their infinite depths, so pure and loving, and in that moment, Hazel felt her own soul leave her to meet his on the cusp of a new beginning. Together.

She allowed the many uncertainties to fall away from her and just dwelled in the love she and Adam shared. The uncertainties and loose ties could wait for tomorrow. This night, this Valentine’s night was theirs…

Chapter 17…Consequences

 It was a night of magic, breathing and beating all around the newly engaged young couple. Magic was everywhere. It was in the air they breathed. Hazel could feel it filling her lungs with a renewed sense of life. There was magic in the golden cast of lamplights that frolicked in the dance Hall. Hazel could see the light’s magical effect as it played over Adam’s raven-black hair. It’s light tinting his shiny locks ebony-blue, his hair’s natural waves had the impression of a raven’s feathers, ruffled and curling.

Most of all, Hazel could feel the magic in the way Adam held her, so gentle yet firm. Magic shimmered beneath her skin with every touch, every caress, every kiss that ignited the embers of passion within the other. Most of all, Hazel could feel magic when Adam looked at her, his gaze drizzling the sweetest nectar. Hazel glowed under his amorous attention, but more than that she felt like these giant gossamer butterfly wings she wore must be transforming her into a creature of magic herself. She could feel the magic of this Valentine’s night in every iridescent fiber of her being.

And of course, the most magical part of the evening was when Adam proposed to her. Never in her life did she allow herself to dream that she would find a man who would love her just as she was and would ask her “would you give me the extreme honor of becoming my wife?” When they sealed their engagement with a kiss Hazel felt like their souls were also kissing with the promise of forever.

The magic didn’t end with the dance. It was just after midnight when Adam brought Hazel home in the cutter. The house was still dark, not a light or a sound broke the fetters of silence that held it captive.

As easily as when they had gone out, Adam made the six foot jump up to Hazel’s still opened window, then jumped down inside as gracefully as a panther.

Hazel raised her hands up to him and Adam pulled her up, scooping under her with his other arm as he did so. Inside, Adam cradled her in his arms as they shared another passionate kiss before carefully setting her down on her feet.

The room was so cold and frosty from Hazel’s window pane being removed for the several hours that they were away at the dance, but neither Hazel and Adam felt Winter’s chill. Their blood was still kindled with the heat of their love and all of the kisses they shared. What better way was there to chase away Winter’s frostbitten fingers from touching them than to dwell by the hearthside of love’s warm memories?

It took Adam only a few minutes to put Hazel’s window back in place. Then he was by her side and she was in his arms again. Like a homing beacon, their lips found each other again and their kiss, so sweet and sensuously indulging as they both tasted the essence of the other, was like a home neither had ever known before. Only together could they find what they could never find separately: a home for their hearts. At last, Adam had arrived home in Hazel and Hazel in Adam.

Releasing her, but with his arms still around her waist, he said “I hate leaving you here with a father who would imprison his own daughter.” His black brows were furrowed in concern for his soon-to-be bride.

“I’ll be alright,” Hazel assured. “The room is still the same. I don’t think he would bother to check up on me. He never has before.”

Adam reached out and cradled the left side of her face in his right hand, his thumb caressing her cheek. He knew how her father’s disregard injured her, no matter how dismissive she may pretend to be now.

“I’ll come by tomorrow at lunch to see if there are any new developments,” and with one more last lingering kiss Adam disappeared out of the window.

That night, Hazel’s dreams were eclipsed with the warmth of Adam’s eyes, his charming smile and his rich, smooth baritone voice. What sweet dreams!

~~0~~

The morning broke bright and clear and fresh with renewal scenting the air. Sometime in the early hours, Hazel’s door was unlocked. She wasn’t sure when, as she heard no footsteps advance down the hallway. She only knew when she approached her door after she breakfasted, she was able to turn the knob. The door squeaked open.

Telling herself to be brave but with trepidation still pricking her heart, Hazel made her way down the hallway. She was just passing the den, when she looked in and saw her father sitting in his favorite wingback chair, tea cup by his side and his face hidden behind the newspaper.

“How is my wayward daughter doing today?” he said from behind the paper.

“Excuse me?” Hazel said, startled.

Finally, Professor Meadows put down the newspaper. “Don’t play innocent with me. I know you went out with young Cartwright last night,” he said and smiled, though it was more a smile of scorn than a real smile. It chilled Hazel’s blood.

“How do you know?” she asked as she stood in the doorway to the den.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” her father said, exasperated that he had to explain the obvious to his daughter. Was she mentally-challenged as well as being lame? He talked to her like he thought she was. Hazel didn’t like his condescending tone as he continued.

“I came to your apartment last night. I got to thinking that maybe I was too hard on you and knowing how you are prone to panic in unfamiliar situations…well, I let myself in. I saw the window had been removed,” her father finished coldly.

“You locked me in,” Hazel didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t like how this conversation was going, but she kept her voice firm and unwaveringly calm.

“Yes. I did. It was for your own good. But I see Mr. Cartwright found a way around that. I’m glad he had the courtesy to put the window back when he brought you home,” he said as he picked up the opened paper, then angrily put it aside again.

“To think. A daughter of mine carrying on in such a manner. Crawling through her bedroom window to meet a man like a common harlot,” he added contemptuously.

“Adam loves me,” Hazel said, angry tears not yet breaching the shoreline of her eyes. Hazel fought to keep them at bay. She didn’t like how this exchange was proceeding, but she wouldn’t give her father the satisfaction to see her break.

“Love? He pities you! Why else would he spend so much time with a crippled girl.”

“No! That’s not true! Adam genuinely loves me and I love him,” Hazel said, standing firm in her belief of Adam’s love and standing tall as she spoke the truth of the love they shared.

“You’re not the daughter I raised,” her father said flatly.

“No. I guess I’m not. Thank heavens!” Hazel said, her head raised, her eyes unwavering from her father’s shocked expression.

“You raised me to be fearful and to doubt myself and my abilities. As I said to you before…I’ve found my voice and I won’t be silenced. As she spoke, all the shy hesitancy was gone from her voice. Though still respectful to her father, Hazel now spoke calm and clear, but firm. There was a backbone of strength in her voice that was new to her but Hazel still recognized it as her own. She was proud of herself and she knew that Adam would be very proud of her too, for how she was standing up for herself in this difficult situation.

“And now you’re going off to be Cartwright’s kept woman,” her father stated coldly. “You might as well. He’s spent enough time alone with you in your apartment.”

“Adam has always been respectful to my virtue. He has done nothing unbecoming of a gentleman – certainly nothing immoral – and nothing that I’m ashamed of,” Hazel said, still standing tall, her gaze level. She vowed to herself that she would not lower her head in shame, though she was certain that’s what Papa expected her to do. She and Adam had done nothing to be ashamed of.

“Then why are you still here? You’ve made it clear that you don’t want a father’s protection. Go to your young man, if that’s what you want,” her father said dismissively, waving his hand at her as if he were swatting away a pesky fly.

Hazel was stung, but she wouldn’t back down. “Fine,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. “I’m going to stay with Leslie Bennington until Adam graduates and then we’re going to Nevada. Together. We’re to be married.” And with this, Hazel limped out of the room. Her father didn’t even bother to look up or acknowledge her departure.

Chapter 18…Like A Phoenix Rising

Adam found Hazel sitting on the bench in front of the Meadows’ gazebo to the side of their Beacon Hill brownstone house. It had started to lightly snow that morning, the arms of the sky having opened up to let loose a fragile flurry, each snowflake upon feathery flake gently fluttering onto the bundled-up girl sitting on the bench. Winter’s breath had slowed the flow of her tears, leaving behind frosty fingerprints to linger as they dried up their trails. The dark stiletto lashes that framed her soulful eyes were festooned with a few stray snowflakes, each one gently kissing her tears away under their pure Wintery blessing.

Adam sat down beside Hazel without a word. He didn’t have to ask her what was wrong, her tear-streaked face spoke for her. Her father must’ve found out about last night. Instead, Adam took Hazel’s small hand in his, their fingers lacing together.

Hazel looked down at their fingers so intertwined as in an infinity knot that one couldn’t know where one ended and the other began. That was the way Hazel felt when she was with Adam and how Adam felt when with her…that each was an extension of the other’s heart and only when they were together did their separate pieces come together and make a whole.

Finally, after holding herself together all morning, Hazel was in Adam’s presence again and she could let herself go. She looked upon an ocean of compassion in his eyes while hers over-brimmed with a fresh onslaught of tears. Wordlessly, Adam opened his arms to her and Hazel fell into him, his arms enclosing around her, holding her tight and protected within as in an envelope of love and strength.

As Hazel cried and Adam continued to hold her in his warm embrace, she told him of what happened between her and her father, the harsh words spoken that cut her to the quick…

“Oh Adam, I said I was going to stay with Leslie Bennington, but I’m afraid I spoke too hastily. Leslie has never made me that offer,” Hazel said plaintively.

“I don’t think that will be a problem. You’ve become good friends with both Leslie and Melody. Why don’t we go ask her now,” Adam said as he wiped the remaining tears from Hazel’s eyes with his handkerchief. Then he stood up, taking her hand to help her stand.

“You really think so?” Hazel asked tentatively.

“I do,” Adam said as he patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his left elbow while they started to walk toward the waiting carriage. “And if worse comes to worse, then you can always stay with me in the dorm. We just have to find a way to get rid of Ashton,” Adam said with a smile and a raised eyebrow. His smile grew bigger and turned into a chuckle as Hazel giggled and blushed at his humor.

~~1~~

Nurse Leslie Bennington was working at Harvard that day. She had just come back from lunch and was starting to file away some reports when Adam and Hazel walked in. It didn’t take long for Adam to fill her in on the new developments at the Meadows’ household. Leslie’s cerulean blue eyes – even her glass eye – filled with compassion when she heard of how Professor Meadows banished his own daughter from the house.

“Hazel, of course you can stay with me. I’d love to have you! It gets so lonely always coming home to an empty house. Lately, John is always so busy with studying for the upcoming exams, that I rarely get to see him. I’d appreciate the company too,” Leslie said kindly as she put her arm around Hazel’s shoulders.

“Now that’s settled, I’ll leave you two ladies to your arrangements,” Adam said as he took Hazel’s hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. Both could feel the connection sizzle between them.

“I have an errand to attend to, but I’ll see you later at Leslie’s,” Adam said softly as he kissed Hazel’s sweet strawberry lips.

 

~~2~~

A small cottage with a thatched roof and smoke trailing up the stone chimney sat cushioned among the blanket of snow just a few yards behind the Harvard campus. This was where Leslie Bennington lived – at least until she and John married. But for now, she couldn’t have hoped for a more comfortable home. Neither could Hazel as the carriage came to a stop in front of the cottage.

There were medium-sized trees surrounding it on all four sides, their naked limbs entangling together. Leslie told Hazel that they were lilac trees and by the middle of May they will be in full bloom in a bouquet of colors. White, pink, fuchsia, purple. The lilacs would intoxicate the Spring air with their pastel romantic fragrance.

Inside, the light was soft. The oil lamps threw their gracious glow about the interior of comfort until the room wore the illumination like a familiar shawl, so well-worn with love and familiarity that one wouldn’t want to leave behind such cozy warmth. Hazel loved it.

“Oh Leslie! This room is so deliciously glorious! It’s as if it’s been enchanted by pixie dust and the laughter of fairy folk,” Hazel said in her delight, her eyes sparkling.

“Always the poet,” Leslie smiled. “I’ll show you to your room,” she said as she led the way down the hallway. Hazel slowly limped behind her. Despite her delight at this romantic cottage, Hazel’s foot was really starting to hurt with all the activity over the past two days. It throbbed sharply with pain, her limp more pronounced. She knew she had to sit down soon before she collapsed under the stress and strain.

Leslie opened an old wooden door on the left down the hallway and Hazel entered into a room where peace prospered and loving comfort was the elixir she drank from the air.

There was a frill of muslin curtains framing the window that looked out to the back of the cottage where an orchard of silver birch trees seemed to whisper their secrets to the enchanted girl inside. Hazel let out an excited exhale as she slowly shuffled to the window and looked out, seeing the trees’ tall branches creating a dome of protection for dreamers to dream their dreams even in the midst of drowsy-eyed Winter.

The bed, with its quilt picturing a single red rose surrounded by brambles of thorns, looked inviting. Hazel sat down on the side and with her hands she lifted her right leg up. Leslie looked at her in concern.

“I think you’ve been doing too much. Why don’t you stay here and rest. Have a nap if you wish. I’ll let you know when Adam arrives,” Leslie said in her comforting and reassuring way.

“Thank-you Leslie, for all you’ve done,” Hazel smiled her gratitude at her friend as Leslie smiled back, then softly closed the door behind her.

Then, moving slowly, she undid her brace and took off her custom-made boot to massage her clubfoot, her hands moving in the experienced repetitive motions that she learned would help her pain and discomfort. Adam still liked to perform this service for her when he was here and he still ended his massage with that lingering intimate kiss to her collapsed instep, but without him Hazel still did the procedure…though she missed that special healing kiss he always gave her at the end of his massages. But even when alone, she could still feel Adam’s warm sensuous lips pressed to that special place on her foot that was absent of an arch. And most especially, Hazel could feel Adam’s kisses upon her soul. That day, Hazel finished by wrapping her clubfoot in fresh bandages, then lying back on the bed. But no matter how tired she was, she couldn’t sleep.

She truly did love being with Leslie at her enchanted cottage and this room really was comfortable, but…this was her first time away from home. She told herself not to be childish about it, but all her life she had lived at home. In fact, hardly ever did she leave her own apartment of rooms. Except for going for her walks or going out to the garden, she never left home. That is, until Adam came into her life. She loved how Adam had changed her, the newfound strength that sprouted within her soul and watered with his love and affection.

But at the same time, Hazel also missed the familiarity of her books, her writings, and making hot chocolate in the evenings. She felt a little out of sorts and lost being outside her familiar surroundings.

She tried to rise above these feelings and just concentrate on her gracious growth and the new home she found in Adam’s heart, the promise of forever in his eyes. She may have lost her old home but she wouldn’t grieve its demise for it was one of fear and doubt and shame, rejection and reclusive living. Its ashes were still smoldering, but like a phoenix rising from those ashes of yesterday to be reborn, Hazel had found a new home in Adam. And it was a home of love and acceptance, belief and self-worth and inclusion. In a few short months she will be Mrs. Adam Cartwright…with this thought swimming through her unconsciousness, Hazel smiled as she fell asleep.

 

Chapter 19…Pernell

The sky’s lonely imaginings were hushed as the sun cruised west, his golden sails sweeping away reality’s lackluster noise to make way for an eveningtide of romance. Such a sky welcomed Adam when he arrived.

Hazel had taken Leslie’s advice and spent the afternoon relaxing and resting her overly used foot on the bed as she composed a poem while watching the sun make his daily western odyssey across the sky.

Poetry had always been a soothing balm to Hazel, a welcome release when her heart was too full with emotions so sensitively felt that they couldn’t be expressed any other way.

So much had happened to her, and for the first time too, Hazel had tested her fledgling wings and flew the nest. The best way to explore those feelings was through her poetry with nature as her illustrator. She titled her poem “Nocturne”:

 

Let the day fade away into a farewell evanescence,

Now the Twilight is here to kiss me bare until

The Night comes with her host of Stars to watch over me,

She tells me she will always be here to catch my fears

In her dreamy plumes, to comfort me as her warm wet

Lips presses the most luscious keepsake kiss to my soul,

Free at last no more will I fear the darkest Night

Now that I’ve learned to fly…

No more will I fear what can’t be seen

Now that the rainbow has feathered my wing

With the strands of color she plucked from her own

– at last my soul stirs – I am reborn fresh and wholesome

Like a phoenix rising…

 

An intimate rhythmic knock on the door interrupted Hazel’s thoughts, but she would know that knock anywhere and didn’t mind the interruption in the least. In fact, she was looking forward to it.

At last, Adam was here and Hazel just basked under the pure warmth of his smile, the hot honeyed gaze of his eyes. Then there were his arms that he gift-wrapped around her, cherishing her as he held her close. There was no other place she ever wanted to be. Being enveloped in Adam’s protective embrace just felt like…home. But it was like no home she had ever known before. Instead, it was what home should feel like and what home should be. Hazel knew this intuitively.

“How are you doing now? Have you settled in?” Adam asked, gazing into Hazel’s whimsical fey blue-grey eyes, his hands locked around her waist.

Hazel favored Adam with one of her brightest Springtime smiles as she nodded. “I love it here. It’s truly enchanting.”

“You don’t fool me, sweetheart. You’ve spent your entire life living in your room and have been through so many changes quite recently, not only a change of residence but being disowned by your father, your only living family member. It’s only natural for you to be experiencing just as many different emotions, to even feel a little lost and adrift without an anchor,” Adam assured, his eyes on hers, while his hands moved up from her waist to caress her back in a comforting rhythm.

“I truly love it here and I love you even more. I’m looking forward to our life together. That’s the one thing I don’t have mixed up feelings about,” Hazel said, her voice soft but strong with conviction. “But it’s true, I do miss my apartment, my books…”

“I knew you would,” Adam said as he went to the door still ajar, and grabbed something from around the corner. It was her suitcases. Hazel’s breath caught in her throat in surprise.

“So, I went by the house,” Adam said as he walked back to Hazel with her two suitcases. He saw the question in her eyes. “Your father wasn’t there. Which is a pity as I had a few things to say to him,” Adam went on grimly.

“But I went to your apartment, found your suitcases and packed as much of your books, your writings, your chocolate-making utensils, and last but certainly not least – your clothes. As much as I could fit in two suitcases.”

“Thank-you,” was all Hazel could say, grateful to Adam for understanding her need to have something familiar around her. It did help to ease her anxiety. Sliding her arms up his chest to his broad shoulders and slipping them around his neck, Hazel started to moor herself in his embrace again.

Adam’s arms wrapped around her as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her sweet scent of rose water and sunshine. She was so soft, so pleasingly rounded in all the right places…but when he felt the familiar desire stirring between them again, Adam took a step back. He unlocked her arms from around his neck and bringing them to the front, he held her small hands in his while he looked into her eyes.

Hazel could see the gentlemanly reticence in his eyes. She sighed in yearning, but she understood.

It had been nearly six weeks since they first met like two ships sailing through a starless night upon waters as dark as ink, each ship sailing from opposite shores of the continent, without a destination, the nautical winds gently blowing them on their course, steering their souls toward each other…until they finally met and their hearts collided. That’s how it was for Adam and Hazel. Since their “collision” they had spent nearly every spare moment together. It was as if there was a voice inside their souls that exclaimed when they met “There you are! I finally found you! I knew I wasn’t meant to go through this life without you by my side.”

   Adam also knew intuitively how starved Hazel was for attention and affection. He knew how her early years of isolation and reclusive living would make her vulnerable to men who were the antithesis of what a gentleman was and instead would prey on her hunger, her naivete and old insecurities. Adam vowed to himself that he would always treat Hazel like a lady and even as they grew closer, their intimacy bolder and the familiarity between them undoubtedly evident to whoever took notice of them; still Adam wouldn’t cross that line of proper courtship conduct and wouldn’t allow the physical expressions of their love to go too far.

Even when Hazel enthusiastically pressed her body against his, clearly eager for his deepening kisses and the ardor of his embrace, Adam, not wanting to take advantage of her overstimulation in the moment, would gently unlock her arms around him and disentangle himself from their embrace. Then, more than once he had to explain to Hazel that to preserve her virtue and reputation and his decorum as a gentleman he should leave before their love’s physical exertions won over reason.

Societal pressures aside, it wasn’t easy to always be a gentleman, Adam thought wryly to himself on those nights when he had to leave.

Unbeknownst to him, Hazel sometimes unabashedly wished that Adam wasn’t always such a gentleman.

“Are you leaving now?” she asked softly.

“I don’t want to scandalize your reputation,” Adam said, his eyes never breaking contact with hers.

“I know…but I wish…” Hazel trailed off, bowed her head and blushed, her unspoken wanton thought staining her fair skin red.

“…that I could stay?” Adam could easily finish her sentence. He had the same forbidden thoughts too. Hazel silently nodded.

“I know. I wish I could too,” Adam said so softly, his whisper was barely audible. Leaning toward her, he kissed her forehead. Then bending his head to her left side, he kissed that soft secret place behind her ear.

“Soon,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a velvet caress. “When you’re Mrs. Adam Cartwright.” Hazel felt a thrill sparkle and flush beneath her skin at this matrimonial promise. She lifted her head, but before she could respond Adam kissed her sweet succulent lips.

Just as Hazel started to melt into Adam again, she heard a faint clucking sound. It sounded like it was coming from between them.

“What was that?” She asked, her eyes wide at the unknown sound.

“Oh that…” Adam said with a smile as he reached inside his coat. Hazel’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“I knew it would be a little difficult for you living in an unfamiliar place. And since I can’t stay the entire night with you – yet – I brought you a friend,” Adam said in his rich dulcet voice as he pulled out from his coat the squirming object. In his hands he held a rabbit.

“Oh, she’s adorable!” Hazel exclaimed as she reached for the rabbit Adam held before her. Tears formed in her eyes at the pure gentleness of the creature as Hazel snuggled her in her arms. Immediately, the rabbit relaxed her body in her new place of warmth and safety and comfort, and to demonstrate her contentment she started making her purring sounds. Not quite like a cat’s purr, but a rabbit’s purr was just as sweet. She nuzzled her head under Hazel’s chin as she stroked the soft fawn-colored fur of her new friend.

She was so silky soft, the contented sounds she made were so gentle. The more Hazel stroked her, the more the rabbit nuzzled her hand for affection. If only people could be as gentle and pure-hearted as this little bunny, the world would be a much nicer place to live, Hazel thought to herself.

“Where did you get her?” Hazel asked, dewy-eyed.

“At the pet store in Boston. The owner said no customers wanted her. She’s been at the store for four months and everyone just overlooks her. He doesn’t know why as she’s such a sweet rabbit,” Adam explained. “I thought of you when I saw her,” he said softly as he caressed Hazel’s left check with the back of his right hand.

“Thank-you Adam. I really love her,” Hazel said as she held her new pet. She loved the feeling of the bunny nuzzling her head into her neck, seeking Hazel’s warmth and comfort.

“I knew you would,” Adam said, pleased at the joy in Hazel’s smile. “Now what are you going to name her?”

Hazel thought about this for a few moments as she walked around the room with her pet, trying to think of the perfect name. Then, her eyes alighted on the suitcases and her favorite books that she knew Adam packed in them from home. Suddenly, her mind clicked on one and her eyes brightened with the perfect name.

“Pernell. I’m going to name her Pernell. It’s the perfect name for such a special rabbit,” Hazel said in her conviction.

“Pernell. Now that’s an unusual name,” Adam mused. “I never heard it before. Where did you get that name?”

“From one of my books. Pernell was a romantic hero, one of King Arthur’s knights. He was always rescuing damsels in distress. He reminds me of you actually,” Hazel said coyly.

“I’m honored. Then Pernell it is. For the rabbit’s name,” he said as his arms slipped around Hazel again, gathering her close – and Pernell too – though Adam had to be careful not to hold them tightly with the rabbit being included in the embrace.

~~1~~

That night after Adam had left, with both lovers giving reluctant goodbyes, Hazel found an old wicker basket in the closet. By the odds and ends of thread, yarn, and an assortment of buttons in the bottom she surmised that it used to be someone’s sewing basket. She asked Leslie about it, but she didn’t know who it used to belong to and thus said Hazel could use it for her purpose-in-mind.

After she cleaned it out and washed it, she fitted it with one of her favorite fleecy blankets that Adam had packed into her suitcases. One side was lemon yellow, the other eggshell blue. Both sides were decorated with several embroideries of playful kittens.

The blanket was her favorite because the fleece was so soft and it had this heart-stirring scent about it. Like it was lovingly stored away in a chest of cedar up in the garret and once it was discovered again and brought down, the scent of dear memories clung to it.

This blanket was now Pernell’s, to cushion her wicker basket bed. Once done, Hazel placed it on the floor next to her own bed. The bunny was right there watching Hazel, her little brownish pink nose constantly twitching in that inquisitive way that was the renowned signature of all inquisitive bunnies.

“Here you go, Pernell. You will be comfortable in your own bed now. This used to be my blanket when I was little, now it’s yours,” Hazel spoke softly to reassure her new pet as the rabbit sniffed around her wicker bed and blanket before jumping in.

Hazel smiled as she watched Pernell pawing at the blanket and rearranging some of the folds to suit her own “rabbit requirements” for comfort. Then Hazel got into her own bed, pulling up the quilt snugly about her.

She had loved her time with Adam tonight, as always. It was as if she was standing in a forest glade swaddled in shadows, then suddenly a bright beam of sunlight broke through the thicket and chased away the shadows. That’s what it was like being with Adam. The man was as powerful as pure sunshine and Hazel was so happy to be caught in the eclipse of his heart’s brilliant shine.

Now as she laid in bed, with only the silver shears of starlight to twinkle their way through the glass of the window and brush traces of their light over the room, so many thoughts and just as many emotions rampaged through Hazel’s tired mind. The wild ride with Adam to the Valentine’s dance, the elation that consumed her with his marriage proposal on the dance floor…but then there was Papa to face the next morning and his cruel words. How could Papa inflict such barbs of cruelty on her? It was this question that tormented Hazel now, chasing away Mr. Sandman from sprinkling her eyelids with his magical dust of dreams and sweet slumbers.

Mama had always thought she was useless, “a waste of space” she would put it as she tried her best to ignore Hazel’s existence. But with Papa, though he was ashamed of her disability and condescending to her and to what he thought she was capable of doing and often he did talk to her like she was an idiot…but at least he didn’t come right out and call her names like he did the other morning. He had practically called her a harlot, and the way he looked at her…it reminded her so much of how Mama used to look at her. That’s what chilled her blood. He was her only living relative but, in a heartbeat he disowned her. That’s what knifed Hazel’s heart again and again…the cruel realization that her father could so easily disown her and cast her aside as if she never mattered.

Hazel didn’t try to stop the heaving sobs that racked her body or the hot flow of her tears that coursed in rivulets from her eyes bleeding the pain of her pent-up emotion. Down her flushed cheeks they ran to drench her pillow.

Suddenly, Hazel felt a soft thump as a weight landed on the bed beside her. She lifted her head up as she tried to slow her ragged breathing and looked to the side where she felt the weight. It was Pernell.

“Pernell,” Hazel said with a small smile as the rabbit looked at her inquiringly. Then she started making her bunny clucking-clicking sounds while she climbed over Hazel with her inquisitive noise twitching, nudging her head about her new human friend. Then hopping back, Pernell nestled her fawn-colored body against Hazel’s side as she crawled up until her cute bunny face was nuzzling against Hazel’s, her whiskers tickling her face.

Hazel felt comforted, the wounds in her heart were soothed by the purity of the bunny’s friendship. She was so grateful to Adam for the gift of Pernell. Clever man that he was, no doubt he knew that she would need a friend to be here for her when he couldn’t be.

Hazel’s fingers stroked Pernell’s super-soft fur as the bunny went into her rabbit’s rendition of a purr, all the while her little pink tongue licked Hazel’s tears away. These were the very first kisses she gave and Hazel cherished her bunny-comfort.

That night, Hazel was finally lulled to sleep to the sound of Pernell’s soft purring.

 

Chapter 20…In The Sugarbush

 March was a month of cheeky contradictions. There was a succession of several days where she displayed her bluster and bravado with gusto, then days where her temperament was gentled with the promise of Spring. But whatever the color of her moods, Adam and Hazel enjoyed her madcap seesaw.

They would go for walks under the freshly falling snow as they did on their first date back in January, admiring Winter’s architecture before it succumbed to Spring’s thaw. They spent evenings inside the cottage making popcorn over the fireplace while Pernell munched on her salad beside them. Adam even taught Hazel the game of checkers on one of these firelit popcorn-making evenings when March’s frostbitten breath was just too sharp to venture outside for a Winter’s walk.

But it was on an afternoon when March was mild-mannered enough to enjoy an outdoor activity, that Adam took Hazel to a special annual event.

“Where are we going?” Hazel asked again as Adam helped her with her coat.

“It’s a surprise,” he replied. He had no intention of giving away the day’s plans to her, no matter how curious she was. “Just dress warmly and don’t worry.” Adam said as he adjusted Hazel’s wool scarf about her. He really didn’t want to keep Hazel in the dark, but knowing of her inclination to worry when faced with unfamiliar situations outside of the home and involving a lot of people, Adam knew it would be best to let Hazel think this was a spur-of-the-moment outing and not give anymore information that that. Otherwise, she would over-think and worry about it; this way Adam was decreasing the chances of her having a panic attack.

“Leslie and John will be going; Ashton and Melody too,” Adam said as he escorted her to the door. Hazel still looked a little uncertain. “Trust me. You’ll have fun,” Adam assured in his rich soothing voice.

That was all he had to say. Hazel smiled at the words “trust me”. There was no one in the world she trusted more than Adam. She trusted Adam not only with her heart and love, but with her safety too. With Adam, Hazel experienced a depth of love that she never had known from her parents, or her teachers for the brief time she attended the school in Boston. She learned what it was like to love and be loved in return. With Adam, Hazel learned what it was like to be treated like a lady – a person – worthy of respect and care and love. And most of all she learned to trust and that she was safe in doing so, at least she was with Adam. And so, with that trust soothing her nerves, Hazel took Adam’s hand and together they stepped outside the cottage. The snow caking the cobblestoned pathway glittered like a bonanza of diamonds as it led to the carriage where her friends awaited.

Adam thought Hazel would be more comfortable sitting in the back with the others but no, she took his left arm firmly and said with her fathomless faith shining bright in her eyes “I’ll stay upfront with you. My place is by your side, always.” Adam was secretly pleased, her words warming his heart as he helped her up to the wagon seat behind the two chestnut mares.

The horses gently snorted as Adam clicked the reins and they started on their journey. The little bells on the halters jingled light and gay, the perfect accompaniment to the trotting of the horses’ hooves as they threw behind them pancakes of snow. The boughs of the trees they passed hung down under the weight of their wintery bounty. Some snow dropped down from the trees like a scattering of trinkets to grace the white glacial ground. Hazel allowed herself to be touched by the magic of this day, her mittened hand snugly linked through Adam’s arm just like her heart was snugly linked to Adam’s heart, ever so loving and generous.

In about three quarters of an hour, Adm stopped the wagon and horses in an area occupied by several wagons. They had arrived. Adam helped Hazel down as the others disembarked out of the back of the wagon.

Hazel looked around her in wonder. There were men carrying instruments among the trees…men drilling holes in trees…children carrying buckets back and forth among the trees…a structure erected in a clearing outside of the orchard where women tended to giant pots hung over a roaring fire.

“What’s going on here?” Hazel asked in awe.

“A maple sugaring off party,” Adam said.

“Boston has one every year around this time,” added Ashton.

“Adam knew you’ve never been to one before and he wanted to surprise you,” Leslie said with a smile, her blue eye twinkling. Even her glass eye seemed to reflect her warm personality.

“I’ve heard about these – even read about them – but I never thought I would ever get to go to one. I always thought even if I did get the opportunity that it would be too much for me with my panic attacks,” Hazel said in her soft way as she looked at Adam in admiration. So, this was why he never told her where he was taking her! He didn’t want her to have a panic attack worrying about it. Sometimes, doing something suddenly and impulsively was the better way. Hazel smiled at his cleverness in every situation. She was still learning so much about herself.

“Maple sugaring off parties are such a big tradition in New England, I wanted you to have the experience of attending one before we marry and move to Nevada,” Adam said, his eyes the most loving caress upon her soul.

“Thank-you Adam,” Hazel simply said as she threw herself into his strong enveloping embrace, relishing the warm feeling of his arms around her, his hands stroking her hair. Hazel felt like her whole being was aglow with the attention and affection that Adam lavished on her. She didn’t know what she did, but Hazel knew she must’ve done something good for God to bring this man into her life.

When he released her, Hazel smiled her appreciation, her cheeks rosy from the cool biting kisses of the air and her eyes were as bright as stars.

“Now since this is my first maple sugaring off party, explain to me what’s happening, please,” she said.

“Adam can explain the process better than any of us,” Melody said, her arm around Hazel’s shoulders.

“You see those men walking over there,” Adam began explaining as he pointed. “They are carrying drills, spouts, pails, and oilcloth with them into the sugarbush. Once there, they will bore a hole into each tree, then drive an iron spout into the hole. A pail is then hung on a hook directly below the spout to collect the sap as it flows from the trees. Usually the children are the ones carrying the pails as they accompany the adults into the sugarbush. Once the pail is in place it’s covered with an oilcloth to keep the sap clean of falling twigs, dirt and insects.” With her arm linked through his left, Hazel listened closely as Adam explained the process to her. She just loved his intellect.

“As the sap fills the buckets, the children take turns bringing the pails back to the sugarhouse and exchanging them for empty ones,” Adam continued, as he looked at Hazel and smiled when she gave his arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Down in the sugarhouse, the women boil the sap all day and long into the night over a roaring fire until the sap thickens and turns golden. At this point, there are many willing taste-testers to see if this golden nectar is yet maple syrup quality,” Adam said as he walked Hazel over to the sugarhouse so she could watch the process.

“I want to help,” Hazel said excitedly.

Adam hesitated. “I think it will be hard for you to tend to the boiling kettle sitting down.” Hazel was crest-fallen, but she knew Adam was right. She couldn’t stand over the pot the way these able-bodied women were doing. Seeing her fallen face, Adam was quick to add “but you could help in the kitchen. Every year there is always a feast at the end of the maple sugaring with a menu of food served in maple syrup.”

“That sounds fun – and yummy too,” Hazel said, her smile restored.

“Come with us Hazel,” Leslie said as she came up beside her. “Melody and I are on our way to the kitchen to help with the dinner.” With one last backward glance and smile at Adam, Hazel allowed herself to be led away by Leslie and Melody. Adam smiled as he watched her go.

Over the next four hours, Hazel helped prepare the evening feast in the kitchen. Leslie insisted that she rest at least two or three times an hour, or whenever she felt she needed to stop.

It was nearing 7 o’clock in the evening when Adam came for her. “The maple syrup is ready to be tested. I thought you would like to see how this is done,” Adam said as he walked Hazel outside of the sweltering kitchen to a clearing not far from the sugarbush orchard. There, Ashton and John had a big jug full of the steaming hot syrup and carefully, they poured it in several patches onto cold clean snow. Adam and Hazel watched as over the next few minutes, the syrup congealed and became taffy. Then, Adam handed Hazel a fork.

“What’s this for?” she asked as she looked at the fork, puzzled.

“Watch,” Adam said as he crouched down and taking his own fork, he dug it into the snow-hardened confection, twirling it up onto his fork. Hazel laughed, its silvery sound ringing in the crisp air in her delight.

Adam held her arm, helping her balance as she crouched down and dug her own fork into the snow-candy treat, twirling it up onto her fork just as Adam had. She looked at it on her fork, a perfect marriage of syrup and snow crystals to create nature’s most deliciously sweet appetizers. When she put it in her mouth, the syrup-on-snow delicacy melted on her tongue. Her eyes widened in delight.

“It’s perfect! Pure maple syrup…it tastes just like it,” Hazel excitedly exclaimed as she tasted her snow-hardened candy again. Tasting his, Adam had to agree.

“I’d say our hard day’s work has yielded a perfect batch of this tree nectar,” Adam said as he winked at her. Hazel giggled, feeling carefree on such a beautiful occasion as her very first maple sugaring off party.

Then the dinner bell rang and Adam helped Hazel walk back to the clearing by the sugarhouse where picnic tables were being set up around the fire and the food brought over to them. It was such a beautiful star-smitten night that they decided to have their banquet outside.

The tables were laden with the foods of their day’s toils: There was mapled baked ham, maple syrup baked beans, maple syrup sweet potatoes, maple custard, and of course, pancakes. No maple syrup banquet would be complete without pancakes.

Everyone enjoyed their maple-glazed dinner and in their own private corner of the picnic table, among their friends, the topic of conversation was…the upcoming nuptials.

“So, have you two set a date for your wedding yet,” Melody asked.

“Yes, we have,” Adam said as he smiled at Hazel next to him.

“May 25^th,” Hazel said as she put down her fork and knife on her plate.

“Hazel’s 20^th birthday,” Adam added proudly.

“That’s the best birthday present I could ever ask for,” Hazel said, feeling self-conscious with all of the attention suddenly focused on her. But she was still glowing with happiness.

Around the table, her new circle of friends cheered. Then rising with his tin cup in hand, John said “let’s make a toast.”

“Without wine…” Ashton interjected.

“Our apple cider will do just as well,” Melody countered as she and Leslie raised their tin cups. Then Ashton too.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” John continued with a raised eyebrow in Ashton’s direction who just laughed good-naturedly. The castaway light from the lanterns on the picnic table turned his flaxen locks to warm honey.

“To Adam and Hazel on their upcoming wedding. May they have many years together of love, health, and happiness.”

After drinking to John’s toast, Adam stood up and said “thanks John, for those words. And now I have something to say to my bride,” Adam said as he gazed at Hazel who took Adam’s offered hand and stood up. Adam took her other hand too, and there as they stood with Hazel’s hands cocooned in Adam’s and the two gazing into the infinite depths of the other’s eyes, Adam recited his favorite lines from “She Walks In Beauty” by Lord Byron, Hazel’s favorite poet:

 

She walks in beauty like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies,

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meets in her aspect and her eyes…

 

“Oh Adam,” Hazel spoke through her trembling lips as trinkets of tears broke loose and spilled their heartfelt essence down her cheeks.

 

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent…

 

Here, Adam stopped as with one long elegant finger he traced the trail of a tear down her cheek, then tipping up her face with a finger under her chin, he kissed Hazel’s sweet, oh so maple-sweet lips. Then, their lips parted as gently as they had met. Adam continued:

 

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

 

Hazel had completely lost any hold she had over herself by the end of Adam’s toast and she fell into his open arms that he enclosed around her like a necklace of love. For surely that’s what his arms were: A necklace of love strengthened with his inherent warmth, goodness, and his pure heart.

“Oh Adam, I love you so much,” Hazel sobbed as Adam kissed her hair, his hands rubbing her back soothingly. “Thank-you for your love. I never thought I would ever find someone to love me,” Hazel continued between sobs.

“No one is more deserving of love than you,” Adam said as he held her head between his hands, looking deep into her eyes. “I love you just as much as you love me,” he said as his mouth found hers and they sealed their love with a kiss. Not wanting to interrupt such a tender moment, the others just drank their apple cider. Both Melody and Leslie dabbed at a few tears in their eyes and stifled a few sniffles.

“Now, let’s get back to the wedding plans,” Adam said as he helped Hazel get seated comfortably again. She smiled at him, a few tears still sparkled in her eyes, but she said brightly “Leslie, will you be my Maid of Honor?”

“I’d be delighted to,” Leslie said as she reached out and took Hazel’s hand in hers.

“And I’ll help with your hair and make-up,” Melody said, confident in her fashion expertise. “And of course, with the dress.”

“Speaking of plans…have you decided on where you’ll be going on your honeymoon?” Leslie asked as she absent-mindedly dipped a cinnamon stick in the left-over maple syrup on her plate, then swirled it into her apple cider.

“San Francisco,” Adam said, looking at Hazel who just smiled. All this was more than she ever dared to dream.

“That’s perfect,” Leslie suddenly enthused. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Adam, but there’s a doctor in San Francisco, a Dr. Collins, who I think may be able to help Hazel. I’ve read about him in a few medical journals. He specializes in clubfoot and I think he’ll be able to design a better brace. Maybe show you too, some other exercises for Hazel to do.”

Hazel looked at Adam who looked back at her, then they both looked at Leslie. “Really?” She had to ask, tentatively. It was all too much to hope for. A dream come true for her, could it really be?

“Yes, really,” Leslie replied and smiled, clearly understanding Hazel’s reluctance to believe what she always thought was impossible: there was hope for her after all.

“A better, newer brace will help me get around so much easier once I move to Nevada with Adam,” she said with happy tears stinging her eyes while Adam took her small hand, sandwiching it between both of his in a gesture both reassuring and protective.

“Do you think I can really manage on a ranch? I know it will be so much bigger with more ground and open spaces, so much more walking…” Hazel said as she turned to Adam, the uncertainty of managing to live a ranch life shadowing her eyes.

“Now, don’t you start worrying about that. I’ve been looking into some alternative options and have come up with some special plans for you to get around. You won’t lose your independence either, but I don’t want to say anything about it yet until I know for sure if it will work,” Adam soothed in his rich baritone voice that was like a lullaby to Hazel’s nerves.

Hazel smiled, grateful to Adam for taking the lead in any situation concerning her. She knew she was safe with Adam and trusted him implicitly. Still, there was one more subject she had to broach…

“What about The Chocolate Bookworm? What will happen to it? I hate leaving our baby behind…”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Adam soothed as he placed his right arm around Hazel’s shoulders while still holding her hands in his left. “We’ve been talking and came up with a solution…” he said as he looked at Melody.

“I’ll take it over,” Melody said.

“With Melody running The Chocolate Bookworm at Harvard, you can open up another one in your new home, Virginia City’s Chocolate Bookworm,” Adam explained.

“Yeah, this can be a chain,” Ashton added optimistically.

“You’ll be Nevada’s first chocolatier,” Adam said as he took her in his arms and as willing as ever did Hazel yielded the sweetness of her mouth to Adam’s, losing herself to the promise of forever in his embrace.

~~1~~

The Chocolate Bookworm in Virginia City…Nevada’s very first chocolatier…these thoughts square-danced through Hazel’s mind as she slept that night. Her dreams were nostalgic for a life with Adam. He had already sprinkled the soil of her soul with potpourri, breathing new life into her while sweeping out the stale…somehow the knots would unravel, the loose ends working themselves into neat bows. Hazel could already feel it working out, her faith and trust whispered Adam’s name to her, lulling her to sleep with the promise of a new life, and this new life would not be absent of love…

 

Chapter 21…An Easter Tale

That year of 1861, Easter fell on March 31. The last month of Winter’s frigid fare thawed under Maiden Spring’s touch as she – slowly and even saucily flirted – revealed her basket of renewed possibilities waiting to be enjoyed by those who knew how to embrace Spring’s coquettish delights.

As the ground grew supple with her annual awakening, and the days melted into the next until the calendar turned, Hazel and Adam found themselves on the cusp of Easter…and they had plans.

They had less than two months to enjoy The Chocolate Bookworm before the business was turned over to Melody. It was hard for Hazel to let it go, but she knew with Adam and her new life waiting for her in Nevada that this was not really the end of The Chocolate Bookworm, but an extension of her and Adam’s love. Hazel, ever the poet, always believed that there was no such thing as death, only a rebirth and a recreation of old life into new life. Since nothing ever dies, especially nothing created out of love, she knew that her and Adam’s baby, The Chocolate Bookworm, would live on. At Harvard University in Cambridge Massachusetts, and soon to be rebirthed in Virginia City Nevada.

Still, they wanted to have a special farewell party while the café was still in Hazel’s name. With Easter ready to smile her sunshine smile upon the eastern state, Adam and Hazel thought having an Easter farewell party would be perfect. After all, Easter was famous for celebrating chocolate and new beginnings. What could be more perfect than that for their beloved baby?

The day before Easter was pleasantly dewy from a mild Spring shower. The earth’s heartbeat could be felt through the supple fleshy ground, aroused awake, her sonnet was a resurrection of joy that holiday.

Adam came over to help with the Easter preparations. “Are the eggshells dry this morning?” He asked as he inspected them laid out single file in front of the hearthside fire.

“They should be,” Leslie said as she shredded raw beets to make a pink dye for several eggs.

Hazel had already made a blue dye from boiling eggs with crushed blueberries, a generous splash of vinegar, and then covering them with water, now the hard-boiled eggs were soaking in their blue bath by the fireside. An early riser in the morning, she had also made a green dye from spinach and had several eggs soaking in their green bath in a separate bowl by the blue. The occupants of the cottage were having a busy, but fun time with their Eastertide preparations for The Chocolate Bookworm.

Hazel wanted to make chocolate eggs as a special treat for their faithful customers. So, the night before, Adam came over to help with the cleaning out the insides of the raw chicken eggs that were sitting in a basket as they awaited their chocolaty transformation. Taking an egg in hand, with a needle he pierced both ends and let the sunny yolk run out. He did this with each egg, rinsing each one well with water and then leaving the eggshells to dry overnight.

His inspection told him that the eggshells were completely dry, so Adam placed a small piece of tape to cover one of the two holes in each egg. They now awaited Hazel to commence the next step. Meanwhile, Leslie had finished boiling another batch of eggs with two handfuls of shredded beets. Carefully removing the bowl of pink beet juice and eggs from the heat, she now placed the bowl by the fireside next to the bowl of blue dye and the one containing the green.

“The chocolate is all melted and ready,” Hazel said in joyful anticipation at what they were creating as she checked on the pot of chocolate simmering over the fire in the hearth.

“Okay, let me get the funnel in place,” Adam said as he placed the end of a baker’s funnel in the hole of the first egg. He held the funnel steady as Hazel carefully poured the melted chocolate in the first egg. Once full, Adam placed the chocolate-filled eggshell in an egg cup to harden. Then they repeated the same procedure with the rest of the two dozen eggs.

Pernell had been grooming herself while Hazel and Adam were occupied with their nest of chocolate eggs, and now she was laying stretched out in her contented relaxed pose by the fire. But as Hazel poured the melted chocolate into the funnel of the last egg, a drop spilled onto the hardwood floor.

Pernell, ever the inquisitive bunny, her ears perked up and her nose twitched in curiosity at the sweet smell of this enticing spillage. Thinking it was a treat for her, she jumped up. Now alert, Pernell cautiously approached the drop of melted chocolate. She licked it.

“No, Pernell! Stay back,” Adam said as he moved to push the curious rabbit away from the hot melted chocolate on the floor.

Pernell, startled by the firmness of Adam’s voice, leaped backward and knocked into the bowl of blue dye, causing it to splash onto the floor.

“Oh no!” Hazel said, as Pernell panicked at the sound of the tipped-over bowl and Adam’s mild cursing.

In her sudden fright, she scampered through the blue dye while at the same time Adam made a grab for her, but instead he knocked into the bowl containing the pink dye which knocked into the green, splattering both onto him.

So, when Adam tried to seize Pernell, the rabbit wiggled free…free except for Adam’s pink and green fingerprints on her fur. But the new coloring of her fur didn’t stop her from making her escape from the site of the accident, tracking blue pawprints throughout the cottage.

All this happened within a matter of seconds. Such are the haphazard episodes which could occur when combining chocolate and dyeing eggs with inquisitive bunnies.

Watching the multi-colored bunny hop down the hallway and disappear around the corner, Adam couldn’t help smiling. Then he heard laughter behind him.

“You find this mess amusing, Miss. Meadows?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow as he turned around and looked at Hazel laughing in pure delight at the unexpected Easter caper.

Her eyes sparkled with laughter and Adam’s eyes sparkled too. Her twilight golden hair was all askew and perspiration from working over the hearth-fire gave a luminous glow to her skin, but she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Adam also loved to see Hazel’s spirit so light and carefree.

But there was only one thing wrong with this picture: Hazel was the only one not wearing the colors of an Easter egg. Now that couldn’t be right…

“How about a hug,” Adam said with a mischievous smile as he held out his arms to his betrothed and slowly walked toward her.

For the first time ever, Hazel hesitated in saying yes to receiving a hug from Adam. His raven-black hair was disheveled from his madcap dash after Pernell, his hands and white shirt were splattered with pink and green dye from the overturned bowls…but this man still kindled her heart warmer than the hearth-fire ever could and he was still the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

But before she could say yes, Adam pulled her into him, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her smiling lips. This time, he shared not only his love with her but his Easter egg coloring too. This time as Adam kissed Hazel, she tasted faintly of beets and spinach.

It took a few days for Pernell to groom herself free of the pink and green blotches staining her normally creamy-beige fur…but it took even longer for Adam, Hazel, and Leslie to clean up the blue pawprints Pernell tracked throughout the cottage. More than a week later, they were still finding prints that told of a blue and pink and green bunny’s route.

 

Chapter 22…Chocolate Bookworm Reminisces

April’s mercurial moods were gentled into a dewy bonnet of greenery, slowly did they unfurl their promise of renewed life on the night of The Chocolate Bookworm’s farewell Easter Party.

Hazel wore her favorite pink silk dress with a blue sash cinched around her waist and tied in a bow at the back. She wore her long hair free, burnished gold waves tumbling down to gently sway when she moved. A comb handcrafted from seashells held back her hair from both sides of her heart-shaped face.

She was sitting in front of her dresser, looking at herself in the mirror when she heard a knock at her door. She smiled as she knew who it was.

“Come in,” she called, her soft voice an octave higher.

The door opened and in walked Adam, looking every bit as charming and elegant as the night that he came to whisk Hazel away to the Valentine’s dance, the couple leaving through Hazel’s bedroom window. It was certainly a night full of adventure and romance. A night that neither would ever forget, especially Hazel, since it was the night that Adam proposed to her.

Now, Hazel held out her hand to Adam as he walked to her. Taking her hand, he kissed it, savoring the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips. As always, his lips lingered for a tantalizing moment longer than propriety called for, but Hazel didn’t care. So long as Adam continued to touch her, even with just the caress of his eyes when he looked at her, Hazel always felt the heat of his gaze.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes appreciating the beauty in front of him, who was his betrothed.

“Thank-you,” Hazel said simply and blushed. She still blushed at receiving Adam’s compliments.

He placed his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her chair where she remained seated. Gently he massaged her shoulders, trying to help her to work out the tension he knew she must be feeling that night. He was well aware that this farewell party would not be easy for her.

“I have something for you,” Adam said, his voice rich and as melodious as ever. Before Hazel could ask, Adam took a small rectangular box from his jacket pocket.

“Oh Adam,” Hazel said before she even opened the box. Then she did. Nestled on a bed of white satin was a teardrop opal pendant on the most delicate golden chain. “Oh Adam…it’s so beautiful,” she sighed as she gazed at the necklace.

Reaching into the box, Adam removed the necklace and still standing behind her, he fastened the golden chain around Hazel’s slender neck, the teardrop opal dangling delicately an inch below the base of her throat.

“For you. In honor of The Chocolate Bookworm,” Adam said as he swept back her hair from her shoulders and gazed at the two of them in the mirror. Together. Forever.

“Adam, you’ve already given me so much. Your love is the most precious gift I’ve ever received. There’s no need to give me anything else,” Hazel said, her voice thickened with emotion and unshed tears.

“Nonsense. My love and heart were yours without even asking,” Adam said gently behind her.

“As are mine, yours always,” Hazel said as she stood up, knocking the chair over in her haste to throw herself into his arms.

Adam held her close, relishing the feeling of Hazel’s supple body in his enclosed embrace as her breasts pressed against his chest, her curves molding to his. Already heady on her essence, Adam kissed Hazel’s eager mouth, just one slowly smoldering kiss. He ended the kiss before the flames could flicker higher between them.

“I think we should go now before we’re late for our own party,” Adam said huskily, smiling as Hazel regained her composure.

“Yes, let’s go. We can’t keep The Chocolate Bookworm waiting tonight,” Hazel said with a touch of sadness.

~~1~~

Twilight had not yet drawn her curtain over the sky, still did the light start to retreat with farewell bows as the shadows lengthened to re-set the stage for a dreamy nocturne.

Adam and Hazel had decided to arrive early so they could set up. Hazel also needed some time to be alone with her beloved café. Just like her chocolate creations, so many memories had been lovingly baked at The Chocolate Bookworm. It had remained closed that day so they could prepare for this night. It would be hard for her to bid it goodbye, but Hazel told herself it really wasn’t goodbye as she will be opening up another one in her new home of Virginia City, Nevada. But this first one will always remain a cherished part of her heart. It was the one that Adam created for her.

The burgundy and ivory lace tablecloths had been washed the night before. Melody and Leslie had been there earlier, placing the tablecloths on the round tables and lighting the lanterns that sat in the center of each table. They cast forth a halo of golden warmth just like that very first day Adam took Hazel to see The Chocolate Bookworm, finally completed, Hazel’s dream at last realized thanks to the love and architectural talent of Adam.

Standing in it now, as empty as it was for the moment, Hazel could hear their voices from that first day echo in the silence.

“Shall we go?” Adam had asked, standing with her outside, looking up at his school. How Harvard intimidated her that first day as the formidable building towered before her.

“Yes,” she had said as she took Adam’s arm and together they proceeded to The Chocolate Bookworm and entered Hazel’s Dream Come True. Brought to life by Adam and his skills, just as he brought Hazel to life with his love.

The opening didn’t happen without its bumps and bruises…there was that bad panic attack that so overwhelmed Hazel that first day, but Adam never left her alone in her fear, he continued to love her through it. Even after that first day, there were still some bad days when Hazel felt too fearful to leave home and some other panic attacks occurred. But through it all, Adam’s love never wavered. He stayed by her side, as steadfast as a strong northeasterly wind in the sails of a ship, so was Adam to Hazel…and much more.

Once or sometimes twice a week, The Chocolate Bookworm hosted poetry readings in the evening. Often, Hazel would read some of her own poetry (the ones that weren’t too personal and too embarrassingly passionate about Adam), or Hazel persuaded Adam into reading some of his favorite poets such as Shakespeare or John Milton. No one had a better voice for reading poetry than Adam. His voice was so chocolate-smooth, coffee-rich, and laced with an inborn strength that had been polished to a shine. Adam’s voice was made for reading poetry.

Bringing herself out of her reverie for the moment, Hazel went to every table and put a hazelnut chocolate shortbread cookie by each plate on the table. It was the shortbread that started it all and still remained Hazel’s and Adam’s favorite.

She also placed two of their new chocolate egg creations at each table setting. Luckily, none of the eggs broke during the mishap with Pernell and the Easter eggs the other day. Once the melted chocolate cooled and hardened inside the chicken eggshells then Hazel, Leslie, and Melody decorated them by tying different colored ribbons around each egg and taping a small decorative flower to hide the hole in the eggs that Adam had made to clean them out. Then once cleaned and dried, poured in the melted chocolate through the funnel in the hole. Just imagine everyone’s surprise when they peeled away the white eggshell to reveal the chocolate egg inside!

While Hazel was distributing the chocolate eggs among the tables, Adam placed a small basket of colored eggs at each table too. Despite Pernell and the Easter caper, they had just enough pink, blue, and green dye for dyeing the Easter eggs for that night’s farewell festivities.

“It looks beautiful,” Hazel said as she stood beside Adam once they finished, her eyes glistening.

“It does. It really does,” Adam said. “But not nearly as beautiful as you,” he whispered in her ear as he took her in his arms again.

Soon Leslie and John arrived, followed by Melody and Ned. Then the other guests filed in. Hazel was happy to see so many of their loyal customers coming to pay homage to her beloved café. Over the past two months, it had become a favorite place for many of Harvard’s students to congregate between classes for a chocolate break and a treat of poetry. Hazel always had a pot of her favorite peppermint hot chocolate or cinnamon mocha brewing, or one of her other creations. Plus, the myriad varieties of shortbread and cookies and pie, with her mocha pecan pie being one of the café’s favorites. As well, of course, the hazelnut chocolate shortbread.

It was an evening enjoyed by all, with the highlight being the poetry reading. When it was time, Melody clinked a silver spoon against her mug of peppermint hot chocolate to get the guests’ attention, and as the high notes resonated through the air, wave upon wave of silence crashed into the next until it reigned and Hazel could speak without shouting to be heard.

“Hello guests, thank-you for coming out for this special night at The Chocolate Bookworm. On this special occasion, I chose a sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, one that’s close to my heart,” Hazel spoke clear and eloquently at the front of the podium where the poetry readings took place. Shy and introverted by nature, it took Hazel several weeks to be comfortable enough to speak in front of a roomful of people. Even now, it still made her nervous and gave her a surreal feeling. But she just kept her eyes on Adam. He was her lighthouse guiding her through the darkest storm to a safe shore.

“Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning had a remarkable love story. They corresponded by letters for five months before they finally met and once they did, they immediately fell in love.”

“Before Robert came into her life, Elizabeth led a cloistered reclusive existence – one I can very much relate to. And just as Elizabeth’s life was dramatically changed by her husband-to-be Robert Browning and the love he shared with her, so has my life been changed by Adam Cartwright and his love – our love – that we now share together.”

So tonight, I wanted to read Sonnet 1 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. She wrote it at the beginning of their courtship when she first recognized the great love that Robert had for her.”

“This poem tells of the transformative power that Robert’s love had on Elizabeth’s life, and like those famous lovers, so has Adam’s love had a very similar transformative effect on my life.”

So, Hazel started her reading of Sonnet 1. Adam was so proud of her, and so moved too, by her opening speech.

 

I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,

The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,

Those of my own life, who by turns had flung

A shadow across me.

 

Here, Hazel’s voice trembled. Adam joined her at the podium, holding her small hands in the warm strength of his as she continued:

 

…a mystic shape did move

Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;

And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, –

“guess now who holds thee!” – “Death” I said.

But there

The silver answer rang, – “Not Death, but Love.

 

Tears freely streamed down Hazel’s rosy cheeks at this emotional end, and Adam took her in his arms. He kissed her forehead, then her trembling lips as the crowd broke into applause. Applauding Hazel’s emotional poetry reading…and applauding Hazel’s and Adam’s love.

 

Chapter 23…Seeking A Resolution

 The sound of his cowboy boots on the cool stone floor echoed through the maze of corridors of the nearly empty school. The last bell had rung a while ago, signaling the end of another school day. One of the last school days too, as graduation was next week. There was a buzz of excitement in the air among the architectural students who were graduating on May 1^st. Adam was one of them.

But before he graduated, and most definitely before the wedding preparations began in earnest, Adam needed to talk to Professor Meadows.

His knock on the Professor’s study door was sharp and confident. He heard the shuffling of papers and then a wearied voice called out “come.”

Among the disarray of papers and piles of old books on his desk, Adam saw the Professor. His greying hair was unkempt, the lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper, even his complexion seemed unnaturally grey. He looked up.

“Yes? What is it?” He said, squinting his tired eyes as he focused on Adam. “Mr. Cartwright? Well, you’re the last person I expected to see.”

“Hello, Professor Meadows. I thought we should talk,” Adam said as he came into the study and stood in front of the Professor’s desk. He looked to the side at the old creaky chair still in its place. Remembering how the arm broke off in his hand, Adam remained standing.

“I don’t see what we have to talk about,” the Professor said, looking down at his papers again.

“Sir, it’s exactly one month from today that Hazel and I are to be married,” Adam began. “She hasn’t said anything to me about it, but I know this rift hurts her…and it will mean so much – to us both – if you came to the wedding.” For a moment, the Professor looked pleased, then uncomfortable (here, Adam thought he may relent easily) but then his face closed again.

“Are you asking for my permission to marry my wayward daughter? Isn’t it too late for that, Mr. Cartwright? You’ve both made it clear that you’ll marry with or without my blessing.”

“It will be easier on Hazel if you gave your blessing,” Adam said quietly.

“Marry without it,” the Professor said dismissively.

“What is bothering you so much? I know you love her. At least you talked about Hazel with love when you first told me about her at the New Years party,” Adam said, exasperated. The Professor looked up for a moment, but then went back to reshuffling his papers.

“It has to do with The Chocolate Bookworm doesn’t it? You gave me permission to work on that old classroom and design the café…but then once it became a success and Hazel wasn’t so dependent on you…?” Adam surmised.

“It didn’t start off as a success,” the Professor said as he turned to Adam, anger flashing in his eyes. “She had that bad panic attack the first day.”

“Yes, she did. But Hazel went back. She wasn’t going to give up on herself or the café…is that what you blame her for? Having the determination not to give up?”

“She was in a dangerous situation having that attack in a public place…where others could see her,” the Professor said, looking uncomfortable.

“She wasn’t in a dangerous situation. I was with her and I made a promise to you – and Hazel – that I wouldn’t leave her alone in her fear. And I didn’t. Hazel knows I was with her. As for other people seeing her…I don’t think having a physical disability like a clubfoot or having a mental disorder like panic attacks is something to be ashamed of.”

“I’m proud of Hazel for going back to The Chocolate Bookworm and not letting fear stand in the way of realizing her dream. I thought you would be too,” Adam said.

“So, what are you doing here, Mr. Cartwright? You don’t really need my permission or blessing to marry my daughter…you don’t need me for anything,” the Professor said, growing annoyed.

“So that’s what is bothering you? You feel threatened by her independence?” Adam asked, astutely, leaning over the cluttered desk.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” The Professor said, awkwardly.

“I don’t think it’s so ridiculous,” Adam said as he sat on the corner of the old desk. “You told me that you wished Hazel was accepted more by people and actually had friends and that she was more independent. But when that actually happens…now that Hazel had some friends and has gained her independence you feel threatened.”

“Hazel has become what you said you always wanted for her, but now that she’s not so dependent on you for everything, you wish she was again.”

“I do not!” The Professor snapped.

“You act like you do. Instead of supporting Hazel’s newfound independence, you blame her for it and discourage her from thinking for herself instead. You didn’t even come to The Chocolate Bookworm’s farewell party.”

“I was busy. I had other things to do,” he said, uneasily.

“You always seem to have ‘other things to do’ when it concerns your daughter,” Adam’s voice was stern with this pale imitation of a father.

“Why don’t you be a man for the first time in your life and put your daughter first for a change.” Adam knew his words were harsh, but he felt they needed to be said. “You never stood up against your wife and you never took a stand for Hazel either. Instead, you kept her hidden away as if she was something to be ashamed of.”

“How dare you! Get out! I don’t have to take that from you,” the Professor said vehemently.

“Are you angry because I bruised your ego or because I’m right?” Adam asked, his voice as calm and clear as ever. Professor Meadows didn’t bother to answer, but went to sorting through his papers.

“Fine. Ignore me just like you ignored Hazel all her life,” Adam said as he walked to the door. “I know what I said was harsh, but I felt it needed to be brought out in the open. I hope you will think on it. Just because Hazel has gained her independence, doesn’t mean that she doesn’t need you.”

The Professor stopped reading his papers for the moment, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face Adam. But Adam could see that he was listening.

“I know it would mean so much to Hazel if you came to the wedding to give her away. She is your only daughter after all,” Adam said quietly as he walked to the door, then turned around to look at Professor Meadows. Adam was struck at how small and lost the older man looked as he sat behind his desk among the piles of paper and stacks of books that were taller than him.

“I hope you will think about it,” Adam said as he opened the study door and stood in the doorway for a moment, then left. Leaving behind his words to echo in the stagnant stillness of the air, leaving behind Professor Meadows to think on those words too.

Chapter 24…Graduation

The night of Adam’s graduation sparkled with a choir of stars, each one singing their own silvery notes to create a celestial chorus line over Harvard University on that most esteemed night of May 1^st.  The school was illuminated with the castaway glow from dozens of lanterns and candles. Together, they created a warm welcoming atmosphere as Adam and Hazel entered the great Hall.

Hazel wore the pink dress that she had to the Valentine’s dance – minus her butterfly wings though. It was her only formal dress, and the most special too, due to the romantic memories attached to it. Around her slender neck she wore the opal pendant on the dainty gold chain that Adam had given her on the night of The Chocolate Bookworm’s farewell party.

She could still feel the gentle touch of Adam’s hands as he fastened the clasp of the necklace around her. Those hands sweeping back the dusky curtain of her hair so he could caress her throat, tracing along her collarbone with his long elegant fingers…then his hands gently massaging her bare shoulders…Hazel yielded herself to the mastery of his touch as she leaned back into him and at the same time, Adam bent his head down to nuzzle his face into the nape of her neck, the pure pleasure of Adam’s mouth on hers and on her bare skin was all Hazel wished to experience…and more. Hazel tingled in the most delicious places at the memory.

Now, on the night of Adam’s graduation, she sat in front with Melody and Leslie. She watched, dewy-eyed, as the ceremony commenced and Adam received his diploma from the dean and shook his hand.

The audience broke into applause as the graduating class turned to face them at the end of the ceremony. Afterwards backstage, Hazel and Adam had their own private celebration in a kiss that never wanted to end. Until a voice spoke up behind them.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Adam turned at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Pa! What are you doing here? When I telegrammed you, I never expected you to leave the Ponderosa to come for my graduation,” Adam exclaimed, clearly surprised at seeing his father as he hugged the salt-and-pepper haired older man. Hazel thought Ben Cartwright had the kindest earthy brown eyes and he looked so elegantly handsome in dark grey pants and a matching vest over a vanilla pinstriped shirt. A dark grey bowler hat crowned his head.

“Well, I had to see that my money had been well spent on your education, didn’t I?” Ben said as he clasped his eldest son to him in an embrace that was as loving as two men could express in a public place.

Hazel just smiled as she stood behind Adam and watched this father-and-son moment. Family. This is how families should be together: loving and supportive and always accepting of other family members with no one being left out and rejected for being “too different”, or for being inflicted in some way, either physically or mentally. True families accept and love each other as they are, ever supportive of a family member’s differences and dreams and aspirations, never being negative and discouraging.

Hazel’s family was never like this, but it still warmed her heart to know that there were loving pure-hearted families like the Cartwrights out there in the world…and it was that kind of pure family love that would change the world for the better too. Hazel felt privileged to be marrying into such a family.

“Actually, after I received your telegram about graduation, I received another telegram from your grandfather,” Ben Cartwright said as he motioned to an older man standing next to him. He was a big man, dressed in a similar gentleman’s formal wear as Mr. Cartwright, but his was a dark blue, and instead of a bowler he wore a sea Captain’s hat.

Abel Stoddard. Yes, Hazel recalled Adam speaking of him several times. Mr. Stoddard had been a sea Captain for several years, and in fact, Ben Cartwright had served as his first mate, until he finally declared his love for the Captain’s daughter, Elizabeth.

The beautiful Elizabeth soon became Ben Cartwright’s first wife and Adam’s mother. Tragedy struck, when Elizabeth died giving life to Adam, but she didn’t die until she held her freshly born son in her arms and named him. Though weakened and feeling the tide of her life slowly ebb away from her, Elizabeth tenderly kissed her son’s pink brow, thus bestowing him with the everlasting gift of her love. Years later, Adam could still feel his mother’s love surrounding him. Hazel knew this because he told her so. In those last few flickering moments of her life, Elizabeth filled it with a lifetime of love as she cradled Adam against her heart and kissed his newborn brow and his sweet rosebud mouth. She only had a few moments on this earthly plane with her son, but she filled those few moments with an eternity of love.

Now, here was Abel Stoddard at his only grandson’s graduation. “I felt it was only right for your father to be here. I told him that the damn cows and those two other boys of his could manage without him for a spell, but it was important for him to attend his eldest son’s graduation,” Abel Stoddard said, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “We’re proud of you, boy.”

“Thank-you grandfather. I’m glad you could come too,” Adam said as he embraced his grandfather. Then releasing him, he turned to his father.

“Pa, what about Hoss and Little Joe? You didn’t bring them…?” Adam asked, his dark brows furrowed.

“Oh no, I couldn’t inflict the good citizens of Boston with your rambunctious brothers. They’re staying on the Ponderosa under the care of Hop Sing…and Ms. Jones said she will check in on them. She said she’ll make sure they’re not running amok.”

“Abigail Jones! Well, there’s no question that their homework will get done. Hoss and Little Joe may never be the same again,” Adam said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. His father just chuckled along with him.

“Now, who is this charming young Lady?” Ben said, exuding a charm all his own as he became aware of Hazel standing behind Adam. She was so quiet, it was almost as if she wished to blend in with the furniture.

Hazel blushed at finally being noticed by this fine western gentleman who happened to be her own beloved Adam’s father…thus, making him her future father-in-law.

Ben tipped his hat to her and Hazel extended her hand in greeting. Ben took her hand in the ranch-hewn roughness of his and kissed it. Chastely of course, not with the heated fire of his son’s lingering kisses. But, now Hazel knew where Adam came by his charm.

During the six weeks of their courtship followed by their Valentine’s engagement, Adam had been corresponding with his father by telegram, so Ben was well informed of Hazel, her clubfoot and panic attacks, as well as her deteriorating relationship with her own father. Ben Cartwright thought it was despicable how Hazel had been treated by her mother, other children, and now her father. He couldn’t understand how a father could treat his only daughter in such a disgraceful way.

But all that was about to change. As well as coming to Massachusetts to attend Adam’s graduation, there had also been discussions – by telegram – of ways to help Hazel get around on the Ponderosa once she and Adam married and moved to Nevada. Thanks to Adam’s research skills, they had a plan in the works, and Ben was seeing to finalizing the last steps of their project.

“Hazel, it’s an honor to finally meet my future daughter-in-law,” Ben said while still holding her hand in his so protectively. “Welcome to the family, dear Hazel. I’m sorry about your father and how he has treated you, but we are your family now. We will be here for you, always. Our home is now your home,” Ben said in his kind and gentle way while staring into Hazel’s blue-grey eyes that were now over-brimming with tears.

“Thank-you Mr. Cartwright,” Hazel said with a quiver in her soft voice and tears, which were just threatening to break loose, were now spilling freely from the shoreline of her eyes, leaving behind the liquified etchings of emotion down her flushed cheeks. For so long – too long – had Hazel yearned to hear those words. “We are your family…we will be here for you always.” These words didn’t come from Papa, but from his kind man, Adam’s father. It was then, Hazel learned an important lesson: friends can be just as real a family – or more real – than the family a person was born into.

“Pa, you made my fiancée cry,” Adam said as he took Hazel into his embrace, gift-wrapping his arms around her as he held her close, stroking her hair until it shone under his hands’ tender care. Adam well understood why his father’s words touched Hazel so deeply.

She had been waiting a lifetime to hear them.

 

Chapter 25…An Evening of Gift-wrapped Memories

Abel Stoddard was kind enough to invite Ben, Adam, and Hazel over to his house in Boston for a special dinner in honor of Adam’s graduation and to discuss some of the details of the upcoming wedding.

The full moon was enthroned in the starry night sky as the carriage stopped in front of a large villa not far from the shore of the Massachusetts Bay. In fact, it was so close that Hazel could hear the rhythmic lapping of the tide on the sandy shore. But this night was in honor of Adam – and for her too. It was the perfect occasion to get to know her new family. Getting lost to the sea’s hypnotic lure could wait for another time.

As they entered the house, Hazel felt like she had just crossed the threshold onto a ship. The house had been decorated to look as such with polished oak paneling comprising the furniture. On the mantle of the fireplace was a miniature ship put together in the finest, most authentic details. A ship’s steering wheel was now the frame of a clock on the far wall.

The most delicious smells of beer-battered cod and halibut, fried potatoes, and freshly gathered vegetables for a salad wafted from the kitchen. The dinner was scrumptious and heartedly enjoyed by all. Afterwards, they sat in the parlor for peppermint tea.

“So, Pa, is the final step of our plan for Hazel ready to go?” Adam said nonchalantly but with that familiar wink as he looked from Hazel to his father. He knew he would capture her attention with the mention of their “secret plan.”

For a few weeks now, Hazel had the intuitive feeling that Adam had a plan that he was working on to help her get around once she moved to the rich expansive territory known as the Ponderosa in Nevada. She would be Mrs. Adam Cartwright then. A dream come true and the start of a new life.

No matter how curious Hazel was, Adam wouldn’t divulge his plan. Not until all the steps were finalized as they were now. Again, ever the intuitive one, Hazel had the feeling that it was about to be unveiled before her. Finally.

“Well yes, Adam, everything is all set,” Ben said with his warm smile, seeing the glimmer of nervous excitement in Hazel’s eyes. “Why don’t you fill in your young bride before she bursts with curiosity?”

Adam turned to Hazel, placing his hand over hers in her lap, his eyes were a warm caress upon her soul. Hazel sighed inwardly and felt herself yielding to the pure light emanating from Adam’s sky-lit eyes.

I know you’ve been dying to know,” Adam began and Hazel just nodded her acquiescence. “Through sending out telegrams to neighboring ranches and even through some of my father’s business contacts in San Francisco, we found out about a ranch located in Wyoming. It’s called the Equine Escort Ranch and they specialize in the raising and training of horses to be used as therapy horses. Have you ever heard of them?” Adam asked. Hazel just shook her head.

“Neither had I until I contacted them. They’ve been in business for a few years now and apparently they train “therapy horses” to help a disabled person out on the trail in the same manner that dogs are trained to guide the blind.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard of training seeing-eye dogs,” Hazel said, excited that she could finally contribute a piece of her knowledge to the conversation.

“Right!” Adam happily exclaimed. “Well, just as dogs can be trained to aid the blind, so can horses. The Equine Escort Ranch has had success in training horses to help disabled people in the same manner. So, the horse will bond with you and answer to his name, he will be trained to pick up items for you or if you need him to fetch something. He will even be trained to kneel down so you can mount…”

“But I can’t ride,” Hazel said uncertainly.

“You’ll learn,” Adam assured. “We’ll teach you to ride with a side saddle. During my research, I came across an article in one of the medical journals from Leslie and it told the story of a young girl with a clubfoot in England. She learned to ride with a side saddle and was able to get around on her farm,” Adam explained.

“Yes, I think I’ve heard of her,” Hazel said thoughtfully. “You really think I can?”

“I know you can,” Adam’s soothing voice was a much-needed bolster of confidence to Hazel’s nerves.

“I’d really like to learn to ride with a side saddle like that English girl did,” Hazel smiled, feeling her spirits buoyed by these new possibilities about to unfold before her, bringing a wealth of new experiences into her future.

“And you will,” Ben said comfortingly. “The horse has already been picked out and paid for.”

“She’s a dappled grey mare with the gentlest disposition. My father has already arranged for her transport to the Ponderosa. She’ll be waiting for you when we arrive,” Adam continued, his hand still over hers.

“Does she have a name yet?” Hazel asked, already falling in love with the horse that was soon to be hers.

“Beloved,” Adam said simply, his smile showing off his delectable dimples.

“Beloved is a perfect name,” Hazel enthused.

“Well, now that’s been settled and taken care of, how about we celebrate with a toast,” Abel Stoddard said as he got up from his gold-upholstered wingback chair. “I know I have a bottle of vintage in the cellar. Hazel, will you accompany me?” He said as he held out his hand to her. Standing a little awkwardly, Hazel took Mr. Stoddard’s left arm, then together they left the room.

Once outside the Parlor, Abel stopped for a moment and looked back, as if to make sure they weren’t being followed or spied upon. Hazel looked at him questionably, curious as to the old man’s odd behavior.

Satisfied that the coast was clear and there were no eavesdroppers, Abel turned back to Hazel and smiled at her look. “Don’t mind me, dear. I just wanted some time alone with my future granddaughter-in-law,” he said as he lightly patted her hand on his arm. Then, instead of going down the stairs to the cellar (which Hazel couldn’t do anyway, not without a great deal of difficulty) Abel turned in the other direction.

“Now can you make it up these few steps? I want to take you to the attic,” Mr. Stoddard said as he opened a door at the end of a hallway, revealing a short flight of stairs.

“Oh. I’ll try,” Hazel said, puzzled at where he was taking her. With Abel’s help, she managed to get up the few steps.

Once up in the garret, Abel closed the door behind them. Hazel gasped in wonder as she looked around her. The light was extremely dim, until grandfather Stoddard lit a lamp and suddenly the room that Time forgot was awash in a golden aura of soft light. It didn’t have a dingy smell like most attics had; instead there was a distinct fragrance of old roses and lavender permeating the solitary atmosphere.

An odd assortment of furniture long past their use from the passage of years now called the garret their home. As well as an out-of-tune harp, there was a fairly large collection of seashells and rocks and driftwood, a creaky scratched up rocking chair, there was a shelf cluttered with porcelain and crystal dishware, an old ship’s mast leaning against the far wall, and many boxes and trunks…and so much more were the orphans of the garret.

But it was to an old trunk with indigo velvet fraying off of it, that Abel Stoddard headed toward, his stride was slow but full of purpose. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it.

“Come here, Hazel,” grandfather Stoddard beckoned as he kneeled down in front of the trunk and slowly lifted the creaky lid. Hazel kneeled down beside him. She was expecting a stale musty smell to escape from the old trunk that looked like it hadn’t been opened in at least two decades. The lid gaped open and stayed in its propped-up position, but there was no musty smell. Instead, the sweet timeless aroma of roses and lavender steeped the air with their delicate fragrance of nostalgia.

Hazel looked in the trunk and could see several clusters of dried roses and lavender tied with a strip of lace, long aged into a creamy yellow. The clusters of potpourri were strewn along the top of tissue paper that had been carefully tucked about something in the trunk. Something obviously of great value for it to be so carefully wrapped and then to have small bouquets of dried flowers scattered over the top as if they were the sentinels to guard the object from the decomposing fingers of Time.

With nothing short of reverence, Abel Stoddard brushed aside the dried roses and lavender and lifted away the tissue paper to reveal the object it protected beneath. It was a dress. A wedding dress.

“This is my daughter Elizabeth’s wedding dress when she married Ben Cartwright,” Abel Stoddard said softly, a far away look in his clear blue eyes as he indulged in fond reminisces of his beautiful daughter and only child.

His fingers lightly fondled the white and ivory lace of the wedding gown and traced over the seed pearl embroidery. “I know she would be very happy to have her future daughter-in-law wear her dress to marry her only son,” he said as he placed Elizabeth’s wedding dress in Hazel’s trembling hands.

“Mr. Stoddard, I don’t know what to say. This is the most beautiful wedding gown I have ever seen…and I will be very honored to wear it,” Hazel said with emotion thick in her throat. “But what about Mr. Cartwright? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea…” Hazel trailed off as she wondered how Ben Cartwright would feel about someone else wearing his dead wife’s wedding dress.

“Nonsense girl,” grandfather Stoddard said with a wave of his hand. “I already discussed the matter with Ben and we are in complete agreement. It would make Elizabeth happy for you to wear it, as it would Ben and I, so wear it and stop worrying,” he said kindly as he patted her hand.

Hazel just smiled, her eyes already dewy from the acceptance that surrounded her like a warm hug.

“Does Adam know?” She asked, suddenly wondering how he would feel about the choice of bridal wear.

“Now, you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the wedding. He’ll know on May 25^th. I know nothing will make him happier,” grandfather Stoddard said as he closed the lid of the trunk and stood up. Then looking at her with a warmth in his eyes that was purer and much more authentic than any look Hazel had ever received before…he put his arms around her and embraced her.

Hazel had never felt warmer in her life. Or more accepted.

~~1~~

The jet-black night was as clear as a mirror, but it was a mirror of glossy blackness to reflect those shiny eyes studding the night that we mere earthlings call “stars”. Hazel believed they were really souls shining down their love as they watched over their loved ones left behind on earth to live and learn…and most of all, to love.

After she had come down from the attic and left behind the treasures that laid therein, she was feeling a little anxious. So much had happened and even more discussed…in order not to feel so overwhelmed, she had to step outside for a few deep breaths of cool night air. Grandfather Stoddard’s backyard had a calming effect on Hazel’s nerves, as well as the rhapsody of the sea just a short distance away. It was while enjoying nature’s nocturnal ambiance that Adam found her. Hazel turned at the comforting sound of his approaching footsteps.

“Are you feeling better?” Adam asked kindly, as he handed her a crystal glass of water with a squeeze of lemon.

“Yes, thank-you,” Hazel said as she took the pro-offered glass of water.

Adam looked at her and felt the pull of her fey-like enchantment. She wore her long dusky golden tresses flowing unfettered. They were a luxurious mass of silken curls tumbling about her shoulders and feathering down her back to her slender hourglass waist. Her eyes shone with life and love and no star in the heavens were brighter or fuller with soul than those stars that were Hazel’s eyes.

There was something Adam needed to do. And seeing Hazel framed among the rose bushes and the creeping ivy of his grandfather’s backyard, he felt the time was ripe. He could almost imagine that he could see the bright shining eyes of the fairies tiptoeing forward out of the surrounding foliage so they too could witness Adam’s next act.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Hazel said with one of her most radiant smiles as Adam came to stand next to her under the gnarled apple tree.

“You make it beautiful,” he said, his eyes were an intimate caress as he gazed at his betrothed. It still delighted him how Hazel still blushed at his compliments.

“My heart is so full of love and happiness,” Hazel sighed and was about to lean into him, wanting to be enveloped in his embrace. Adam was ambrosia to her heart, he was the most divine water giving life to her soul. To have Adam’s muscular arms wrapped around her was the closest she’s ever been to Heaven. But before she could moor herself in the home of Adam’s embrace, he took her left hand in his.

“The happiest day in my life was when you said you’ll be my wife,” Adam’s voice was pure music. Then, he took something from his vest pocket. Hazel gave a gasp of delightful surprise as Adam slipped a ring on the third finger of her left hand.

“Oh Adam,” she sighed as she gazed, mesmerized by the most beautiful engagement ring she had ever seen. The band was white gold with a large oval diamond surround by

smaller rectangular diamonds.

“It was my mother’s engagement ring,” Adam said tenderly. “I know she would’ve loved you and would want you to wear her wedding ring.”

So moved was she, Hazel didn’t try to stop the tears from trickling free. “Oh Adam…I just don’t know what to say. Thank-you for your love. That was the happiest day in my life too…when you proposed at the Valentine’s dance and asked me to be your wife. It was a dream come true,” Hazel said through her tears.

Then Adam finally pulled her into him and locked his strong arms about her just as his mouth locked over hers, savoring the most delicious dessert of Hazel’s full-bodied lips, savoring her pure sweetness.

In the background, there was a twinkling bell-like sound somewhere near the outskirts where the foliage grew wild and Imagination wandered far from the tight manicure of reality, as Adam’s imagination did for a moment. It might have been the fairies that were out and about tonight, this being May 1^st and was their most favorite time to paint the atmosphere with their magic and fairy aesthetics…or so said mythology. Maybe it was Hazel’s fey-like appearance that was intoxicating his senses or maybe his heart was just over-brimming with happiness that his logic was running amok. Adam was never one to believe in fairies before – that is, before Hazel came into his life. But his heart was so entwined with hers now, he was willing to have an open mind when it came to believing in fairies. How could he not, when the love of his life seemed to be part fey herself? Though Adam would never admit it to his dorm-mates at Harvard, he would swear that the bell-like fairy laughter he heard was a sign of the fairy folk’s cheers at their love and they were having their own May Day celebration in honor of Adam and Hazel.

Just then, a blinding flash of dazzling white streaked across the night sky. It was a shooting star.

“Another shooting star, just like on our first date,” Hazel cried out exhilarately as she watched the celestial display.

“Now we know we’re blessed,” Adam declared, ready to continue with their kiss.

But Hazel was still mesmerized by the shooting star. The night was so clear that she could see many constellations. She thought she found the constellation from which their shooting star originated.  She pointed to the spot.

“Look over there,” she said softly. “That constellation…I don’t know the name of it or what it’s supposed to be…”

“Hmmm, neither do I at the moment…” Adam said, his attention on the constellation of stars too.

“But, to me…it looks like a gecko.”

“A gecko?” Adam looked at Hazel and saw an otherworldly sincerity shining in her face.

“Yes. A gecko,” Hazel said, her voice that a moment ago was full of wonder, now held a note of sadness. “I used to have a gecko a few years ago. Papa brought her home for me from one of his many excursions. A little gecko friend for a little girl who had no other friends. Her name was Reverie. She had the sweetest, most loving personality and was my constant companion for a few years…until she got sick and her soul passed over into the heavens and became a star.”

Adam took Hazel into his arms again and rubbed her back comfortably as she laid her head on his shoulder. Then, she lifted her head and gazed into Adam’s luminously loving eyes. She melted into him as her arms encircled his neck, her fingers teasing his glossy black curls at the nape until he gave a low moan and she felt her heart quicken. Then, their lips engaged in a dance as they continued their kiss…while another shooting star dazzled the heavens from Reverie’s constellation.

 

Chapter 26…Surprise!

The intoxicating earthy aroma of coffee helped to awaken Ben Cartwright as he had his breakfast downstairs in the Hotel dining room. He added a splash of cream and then stirred until the flavors were married together in his china cup. Ben took a sip of his coffee, savoring the creamy roasted flavor flowing over his tongue and saturating his mouth, its liquid heat burning a trail down his throat to awaken him to the day ahead.

After his breakfast of hash browns and bacon, he planned on meeting Adam at his dorm. Now that he had graduated, Adam was moving out and Ben was helping him with the move that day. The plan was for him to stay at his grandfather Stoddard’s house for the few weeks left until the wedding. Afterwards, he will be moving back to Nevada with his new bride.

Removing his pocket watch from his vest, Ben checked the time. I have to take a carriage to Harvard in order to meet Adam. I better leave now, he thought to himself as he got up from the table. As he did so, he noticed a flurry of activity at the main desk. Emory, Ben Cartwright believed his name to be, a bellboy barely a man yet, slight of build with his dark hair brushed back, was talking very excitedly – but in hushed tones – to the hotel manager Mr. Andrews. Clearly something had happened at the hotel. Ben Cartwright went over to inquire.

“Mr. Andrews, I’ll be leaving for the day,” Ben said as he approached the front desk. “I couldn’t help noticing that something is the matter. Is there anything I can do to help?” Mr. Andrews and the bellboy Emory stopped talking for a moment. Then Mr. Andrews, looking uncomfortable, noisily cleared his throat.

“Mr. Cartwright, something indeed has happened. And it concerns you,” Mr. Andrews straightened his vest and plucked an invisible piece of lint off of Emory’s uniform.

“Me? How so,” Ben said, not understanding how he could be implicated in any mishap at the hotel. His bill was already paid in advance for the duration of his time he will be spending in Boston.

“It appears that Emory here was on your floor and he heard noises coming from your room. He naturally thought it was you…until he came downstairs and saw you in the dining room.” Then Mr. Andrews said just as seriously “Mr. Cartwright, it appears there’s an intruder in your room.”

“Well, let’s go on up and see what this is about. It’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Ben said as he headed for the stars.

Mr. Andrews hesitated for a moment as he debated with himself if a confrontation with the intruder was the proper course of action. Maybe they should call the Constable first? But Ben Cartwright was a man of action and he didn’t want to wait. So, with a resigned shrug of his shoulders he said “Come along Emory,” and both followed Ben up the stairs.

The cream-colored hall was quiet on the third floor where Ben’s room was situated. The gas lamps, dimmed low, gave a golden wash to their shadows throwing gargoyle caricatures over the walls. In silence they stood outside the door to Ben’s room. They heard muffled sounds and the murmur of a voice coming from within. There was no doubt about it; someone was inside. Was it friend or foe? The moment was at hand to find out.

With a wave of his hand motioning the others to stay back, Ben Cartwright tried the knob on his door. It was unlocked. Cautiously he turned it and opened the door just wide enough for him to slip inside, followed by the hotel manager, Mr. Andrews.

The room was dark as Ben had left it that morning, but there was a definite shadow to the right of Ben. Acting fast, he grabbed the shadow and dragged it into the light emanating from the hallway. Then he abruptly stopped.

“Little Joe! What the…?” Ben was outraged and confused all at once to find his youngest son was the intruder.

“Hi Pa,” the twelve-year-old said sheepishly at his stern-faced father.

Ben turned into the room for a moment, his hand fumbling to turn up the gas lamp in order for the lamp to shed its light on this unfolding family drama.

As he did so, the room was washed in light that chased the skirt of shadows to the furthest corners. Ben Cartwright drew in a sharp intake of breath at the other person in his room.

“Hi’ya Pa,” Hoss said, his sixteen-year-old son biting into an apple.

“Well it looks like the mystery of the intruder – or intruders in this case – has been resolved,” Mr. Andrews said, not without a touch of humor. “If it will please you, sir, I will leave you to your family reunion” Mr. Andrews excused himself. “Come Emory.”

“Joseph, get in here,” Ben said grimly, then once he did, closed the door firmly behind him. He didn’t want another audience happening by.

“Okay, you two, what are you doing here and how?” Ben’s voice was as full of authoritarianism as ever in the face of his two younger sons’ disobedience, and he would tolerate no fanciful tale of Little Joe’s. That boy’s story better be straight.

“Well, see, it’s like this, Pa” Hoss began as he came to stand beside Joe, the half-eaten apple still in his hand. “We got to thinking, with Adam gettin’ married an all, we thought that we should be here for our older brother. He’s the first of us to get hitched after all. We was thinking that we should meet his gal an’ see if she knows what she’s gettin’ into…”

“By marrying ol’ granite head,” Little Joe finished with that familiar impish smile.

“Oh really?” Ben said in that no-nonsense tone of voice that both Hoss and Little Hoe knew so well.

“Adam and I can manage here just fine and it just so happens that Hazel loves your brother very much and she’ll make him a good wife. I’m looking forward to having her as a daughter-in-law.”

“Yes, Pa. We’re sorry we disobeyed you. It was Shortshank’s idea,” Hoss said with a sideways glance at his twelve-year-old brother.

“Thanks a lot, Hoss,” Little Joe muttered.

“Now, how about you telling me how you got here? And what about Hop Sing? And Miss Abigail Jones!” Ben demanded, hands on his hips.

“Ol’ Hop Sing, we love him an’ all. He’s one of the family…but that Abigail Jones – “

“Miss Jones!” Ben corrected Hoss.

“Miss Jones, right Pa. Well, she just gets so carried away with the homework assignments, correctin’ our grammar an’ spelling…almost every night she was over. And then she kept on going on about Adam gettin’ hitched – I mean married. An’ going on about iff’in the gal was good enough for our Adam. It just got too much listenin’ to her,” Hoss explained.

“Not to mention that she kept on going on about those romantic stories of Sir Walter Raleigh, King Arthur and Lancelot and the rest of those tin men,” Little Joe added with a roll of his eyes.

“Dadburnit, Pa. We just couldn’t take it anymore. Then we just got ta thinkin’ that we should be here to welcome Adam’s gal into the family, proper-like.”

“Yes,” Little Joe chimed in. “So, we pooled together the money we had left after Christmas and it was just enough for the stage.”

“Without a word to Hop Sing,” Ben said disapprovingly.

“No, not at all. We wrote him a note,” Little Joe added with a smile, as if a note was sufficient to explain everything to their Chinese cook.

“Go on,” Ben said low. He was just nearly at the end of his rope with another of Little Joe’s schemes. And why did Hoss always have to go along with it? He exhaled a deep breath and resigned himself to hearing the rest of this tale.

“Well, the stage and the connecting stage took us as far as Denver. A train was to take us the rest o’ the way to Boston,” Hoss continued. Then with a troubled face he added in a small voice “but we had no mo’ money for the train.”

“So, what did you do?” Ben asked, already fearing the answer.

“We…umm…we jumped the train,” Little Joe knew he was in trouble with this admission.

“You what!” Ben thundered, outraged and exasperated.

“We jumped the train…just as it was pulling out of the station…into one of the cargo holds.”

“It took us right into Boston too,” Hoss said with pride, if out of place pride. Which it certainly was.

“We had no trouble at all finding the hotel you were staying at,” Little Joe said, trying to show his Pa that a good outcome came from their adventure.

“After your latest escapade I may never be able to show my face in Boston ever again,” Ben said, worn out after hearing Little Joe’s latest shenanigans.

“Listen, young man, those train tickets cost a pretty penny. Do you realize that by jumping on that train – without paying – you just robbed the railroad of fare,” Ben advanced on Little Joe, shaking his finger at him, all fired up again.

“We’re sorry Pa,” Joe said, at last sounding contrite.

“And we plan on paying them back. Every cent,” Hoss added.

“You bet you will!” Ben fumed. “Now, we are going right down to the train station and you can tell this story to the conductor and we’ll see what he has to say about this…and whatever punishment he sees fit.” Hoss and Little Joe looked at each other, resigned to their fate.

“I was supposed to meet your brother Adam at his dorm in Harvard, but after hearing this story, he’ll understand why I’m late.” And with this said, Ben Cartwright marched his two wayward sons out of the hotel and down to the train station.

~~1~~

The train conductor, Mr.  Hensley, proved to be a fair but firm man, much like Ben. The boys told their story and Ben had the impression that this was not the first time that Mr. Hensley heard such a story. In fact, he said that he had heard similar stories over the twenty years that he worked for the railroad.

“Well now, jumping on a train without paying a fare is serious business, boys. What do you think I should do with you?” Mr. Hensley said as he sat on the edge of his desk with his arms folded across his chest.

Ben Cartwright stood behind Hoss and Little Joe, with a hand on the shoulder of each of his sons. He was glad that they both seemed genuinely contrite and worried too, over the punishment they were about to be dealt. Neither one knew what that would be; nor did Ben.

“Mr. Hensley, I am prepared to pay for the boys’ fare,” Ben said as he reached into his vest for his wallet.

“Thank-you for the offer Mr. Cartwright, but I don’t think that’s the way to go. Your boys wouldn’t learn anything, really, if their father bailed them out every time they got into trouble,” Mr. Hensley took a sip of his coffee. “I have something else in mind.” Ben Cartwright waited for him to continue.

“They’ll work off the money by working for me,” Mr. Hensley stated firmly as he pushed off from his desk and stood in front of Hoss and Little Hoe, his thumbs in his suspenders.

“That’s a fine idea,” Ben smiled. Even Hoss and Little Joe smiled at the idea of them working for the railroad.

“How does that suit you boys?” Mr. Hensley asked as he stood in front of them.

“Wow!” That will suit us just fine, Mr. Hensley,” Little Joe enthused.

“We’d be mighty proud ta work for you,” Hoss said in his friendly way.

“Now, this job is not going to be a picnic for you two. You’re not going to have it easy. You’re going to do good honest work for me and the railroad. Anything from sweeping the train, checking tickets, picking up rocks off the tracks, and delivering coal to the engineer. Anything I see fit for you to do. Is that clear?” Mr. Hensley said firmly.

“Yes, sirie,” Hoss said. “We won’t let you down.”

“We can do the job sir,” Little Joe said. “Thank-you for this opportunity.”

“Now, you do good honest work for me…and I’d say the fares should be paid off just in time for your brother’s wedding, and then you can all go home together,” Mr. Hensley smiled at the two eager boys.

“I can’t thank-you enough, Mr. Hensley,” Ben said with a bright smile as he reached out his hand.

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Cartwright,” Mr. Hensley smiled as he took Ben’s hand and the two men shared a firm handshake.

“When do we start?” Little Joe asked eagerly.

“Well, there’s no better time than the present,” Mr. Hensley said with a glimmer in his pale blue eyes. “Does that work for you, Mr. Cartwright?”

“Oh yes, that’s fine, fine,” Ben said, still smiling. “Now, while you two boys are getting to work, I’ll go meet Adam at his dorm.”

~~2~~

As Ben had predicted, Adam fully understood why his father was late in joining him on his moving day from Harvard, once he learned of his youngest brothers’ latest shenanigans that had brought them to Boston.

It never failed to be a secret source of amusement to him at the dilemmas those two could get themselves into. But that being said, it still pleased Adam to have not only his father and grandfather in attendance at his wedding, but now his brothers too. And for them to have the chance of meeting Hazel before she joined the family as their sister-in-law.

 

Chapter 27…Reflections On The Beach

The wind softly whispered through the burnt gold of Hazel’s hair, while with teasing fingers it caressed her cheek, its zephyr breath sending her hair into a playful disarray as Hazel sat on the beach with Adam. She watched the in-coming tide stroke the sand, then pull back again as if feeding the sea the power it needed for its waves to rise into a frothy-crowned crest.

It was May 18^th, exactly one week away from their wedding. It was also Adam’s 23^rd birthday, and the couple decided to commemorate the occasion with a picnic along the seashore of the Massachusetts Bay.

Of course, Adam’s father Ben and grandfather Stoddard wanted to have a special dinner for Adam. But all Adam wanted was to be alone with the girl he loved, Hazel, the lady who strummed the strings of his heart.

Though, first he allowed his father and grandfather to throw their celebratory dinner, he thought it would be rude not to. Then he thought of Hoss and Little Joe meeting Hazel for the first time and Adam realized that this birthday dinner would be the opening he needed to bring Hazel together with his family. His family was now her family. And it would also help to soothe Hazel’s over-active nerves. Adam knew how nervous she was around people she wasn’t familiar with. Now here was the perfect moment for her to meet her future brothers-in-law.

Adam watched a Kingfisher glide through the warm pulsebeat of the air. Then, diving down, his blue feathers were an azure shadow over the surface of the sea as with no more than a momentary hiccup a fish jumped up and the Kingfisher caught it in his beak as smoothly as any expert fisherman, long trusting the intuition that leads him forth into a mundane day and out of which he brings forth the poignant tang he needs to survive.

Adam thought, in a way, that Hazel was like this Kingfisher. From her mundane days of friendless isolation that she was forced to live through she made friends with books and discovered in herself a talent for writing. She allowed poetry to write upon the scroll of her spirit as she clothed herself in the colors of her imagination. That was how Hazel survived her isolated childhood years. Hazel was the most unique lady Adam had ever met, and again, he gave his thanks to the Deities That Be that such a rare jewel of a lady was going to be his wife in exactly one week. Adam truly felt blessed being with Hazel and as he sat on the sandy shore of the beach watching her as she watched the Kingfisher with her intuitive eyes, he had no doubt that inwardly she was composing a poem in tribute to the Kingfisher and to the moment they were sharing together.

Hazel was drawn back to the present by the dazzle of Adam’s smile. She gazed at him and her heart skipped a beat to behold Adam immersed in the magnificence of his masculinity as revealed by the wind ruffling through his glossy ebony hair, and even causing the neckline of his shirt to flutter open (did the wind also undo a button or two more than the customary three? Oh, what a nice naughty wind!). It gave Hazel a delicious peak at the dark curls that she could only imagine must cover the rest of Adam’s chest. She gave a sigh of tender yearning as she allowed herself to think of the physical intimacies that awaited her on her wedding night as she finally became a woman in Adam’s embrace.

Hazel never thought that she would ever find a man who would love her just as she was – clubfoot and panic attacks included – who also thought she was as beautiful as she was talented, a man who would want to marry her and spend the rest of his life by her side, a man who would be her life-long partner as they raised a family together. Hazel knew that every single day of her life that she woke up beside Adam, she would give her thanks and heartfelt gratitude to the Deities That Be.

“What are you thinking?” Adam asked, his silken voice a gentle caress upon Hazel’s nerves.

“I’m thinking how lucky I am to be with you,” Hazel said softly, digging her bare toes into the soft beach sand.

“I’m the lucky one,” Adam replied, his voice low and intimate as his hand reached out and took hers. Her softness enclosed in his strength. Hazel just beamed her love back at him, her large eyes dewy with emotion.

Then, he brought her hand up to his face, gently running the back of her hand against the rough stubble of his jaw, then bringing it to his mouth where his lips pressed a heated lingering kiss to the back of it. Hazel’s breath caught in her throat at the intimate contact and she felt the butterflies start to madly flutter in her belly again. Adam just smiled with that mischievous glimmer in his vibrant eyes. He knew the effect he had on her.

“So, what did you think of my brothers?” He asked nonchalantly. Hazel drew back her hand as she tried to regain her ability to think while Adam just looked at her innocently.

“I think they’re sweet,” she said in all sincerity. She had been nervous before meeting them, but Hoss’ friendly smile and manners as well as Little Joe’s easygoing way soon put her at ease.

Hoss also loved meeting Pernell and even helped Hazel to make her bunny’s salad. So, while the Cartwright clan (which now included Hazel) enjoyed their special birthday dinner in honor of Adam, Pernell happily munched on her salad beside the dining room table. Abel Stoddard didn’t mind Pernell eating in the dining room, but he drew the line when Hoss suggested that the rabbit be allowed to eat at the table.

“They have their moments,” Adam chuckled. “It’s quite amazing how different they appear when they’re asleep, especially Little Joe. That kid looks so angelic when he’s sleeping that no one would suspect the mischievous imp he is most of the time. Like in the caper he concocted that brought him to Boston. And Hoss right along with him.”

Hazel heard the warm affection in Adam’s rich voice and her heart grew cordial listening to it. She had no siblings, no family (at least no living family members who cared to include her into their kinsmen fold), but listening to Adam talk with such obvious love and affection about his brothers caused Hazel to grow wistful for a family…but then she reminded herself that they were her family now. In one short week Adam would be her husband, Hoss and Little Joe her brothers-in-law, and Ben her father-in-law. In one short week she would be a Cartwright. Her family.

Hazel had come to understand that there are two types of families that a person has. There is the family that you are born into. Then there is the family that you choose for yourself. Often, the family that you choose has the stronger ties.

Far beyond the ties of her birth family, Hazel felt her chosen family – the Cartwrights – their ties were stronger. Purer. They were the ties of love and acceptance that bound them together. Now, at long last, Hazel had a family.

Though, she admitted, the one spot that bruised her heart was her father – her birth father – probably wouldn’t be at the wedding to give her away. But she and Adam had already spoken to Mr. Cartwright about it and he said that he would be honored to give her away.

As if knowing her unspoken thoughts, Adam leaned forward, his breath warm on her face as he placed his hands on each side of her head and then…he kissed her waiting lips. Hazel’s arms encircled Adam’s neck as she yielded to Adam’s ever deepening kiss.

Then, breaking away breathless, Hazel gazed at Adam and thought how ruggedly handsome he was…just like the wild terrain of the beach that surrounded them. Without saying a word, she caressed his sandpaper-rough cheek, her fingers lightly grazing over the plains of his perfect face. She didn’t have to give voice to her thoughts because her touch was speaking her love louder than words ever could.

“Thank-you, Adam,” she said softly.

“For what?” He asked, gazing into the fathomless depths of her eyes.

“For loving me. For believing in me. It was your love that gave me the freedom to fly from my chrysalis,” Hazel said softly, her throat was too thick with emotion for her voice to be anything but a heartfelt whisper.

“I was meant to love you. And as for believing in you…you always had the strength inside you. My beautiful butterfly. Thank-you for flying back to me,” Adam expressed in his voice’s honey-rich tones.

Then silence reigned again as both succumbed to a kiss that was more delicious than the last.

~~1~~

While Hazel and Adam were busy with their wedding preparations in that final week, Adam’s two younger wayward brothers were still working hard for Mr. Hensley on the railroad. And loving every day of it. In fact, they had a secret project.

Ben couldn’t even fathom a guess and was at a loss as to what to even think when he went down to the railway station one day and happened to see Hoss carrying two fancy lamps and Little Joe a box from the local mercantile store. Ben saw sticking out of the box what he thought looked like a bolt or two of fabric. Now what did home decorating have to do with working for the railroad?

“It’s nothing for ya to worry about, Pa,” Hoss would answer when Ben questioned him.

“It’s a surprise,” was all Little Joe would say as he handed up curtains to Mr. Hensley on one of the train’s cars. Mr. Hensley just nodded and all three had mysterious smiles as they watched Ben Cartwright pass by, clueless to their secret project.

 

Chapter 28…A Chocolate Bookworm Wedding

Dawn’s bowl of slowly awakening languor tipped over and the sky was awash in her pink exhales, letting loose notes of lavender-purple that tasted like happiness to Hazel’s inner poet. She watched the gold peek out from behind a cloud, jubilant at the birth of a new day as her broken golden rays chased the last of the evening’s clouds away.

It was the morning of May 25^th. Her 20^th birthday and most importantly, her wedding day. Hazel wanted to welcome in this very special day by watching the sunrise as she sat on the wooden bench at the back of Leslie’s little stone cottage, sipping her chamomile tea, tendrils of steam dancing upward from her porcelain cup to evaporate like some friendly ghost into the welcoming dawn.

The silence, such a dear confidante to Hazel for so long, was now charmed apart by the good morning hymns sung by the robins and the orioles. Hazel sighed in pure contentment as she allowed herself to be embraced by this moment, her senses slowly awakening with the dawn.

This was more than just the birth of a new day; this was the birth of a new life for Hazel, the start of a new journey that she was about to embark upon with Adam by her side. Hazel looked down at her engagement ring, how it flashed and glimmered with the promise of forever on her finger. She was about to take her first step into a whole new world, with Adam as the heartbeat of that world.

Under the newborn day’s dewy-eyed light, Hazel lifted up her deformed clubfoot onto the bench and proceeded to massage it, stretching the tight tendons and her collapsed instep for several minutes before bandaging it securely. Hazel looked at her foot. She had always thought of it as her ‘ugly twisted foot’, her ‘deformity’. Once she had even thought of herself as ‘unlovable’. That is, before Adam came into her life and told her that there was nothing ugly or deformed about her, and anyone who called her ugly was just showing her how sick and ugly they were, in their own minds was where their sickness dwelt. Her mother and those cruel bullies at school. They were the truly sick ones with their deformed way of looking at others. Adam told her not to take their sickness into herself and she promised him she would learn not to.

  “Adam, why is it always easier to believe the bad things someone says about you, instead of the good?”

   “I don’t know sweetheart,” was all he could answer, with a crinkle of sadness around his eyes. He continued to hold her close, cradling her in his protective embrace.

   “I promise, I’ll get there Adam. I promise, I’ll get to that soft place and believe only the good.”

   “I know you will, honey,” Adam said with a smile. “Whenever you have doubts, just look into my eyes and see how I see you. There, you will know the truth of my love,” Adam said, his voice soft but very serious.

   “I promise, Adam. I love you,” was all Hazel could answer.

The day of that bad panic attack at the opening of The Chocolate Bookworm seemed so long ago, but those words still echoed through the honeycomb of her mind. And Hazel had done her best to keep that promise, to look at herself through the eyes of love and compassion as Adam did and see herself as a whole person, beautiful and worthy of love. Finally, Hazel could see herself as being worthy of love. She was ‘lovable’. She could finally see herself as Adam saw her.

“Well, you’re certainly up early.” So lost in thought was Hazel that she didn’t hear Leslie come up behind her until her voice threaded its way into the bride’s inward seeing reflections. Leslie sat down on the bench beside Hazel, her caramel curls strewn about her shoulders.

“I just wanted to welcome in this day from its beginning. This is the first day of a new life. Nothing will be the same,” Hazel said softly as she looked at the newborn sun crowning the eastern horizon. Always the friend to silence, Leslie took Hazel’s hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Are you nervous?” Leslie asked, her one blue eye looked at Hazel in compassion. “It’s alright if you are. You have been through so many changes these past three months. And today is the biggest change of all.” Leslie’s glass eye seemed to be looking into the fathomless depths of Hazel’s soul. Their fingers laced together, two friends with one heart between them as they shared this very special breaking dawn together.

“No,” Hazel said calmly in her conviction. “Nothing has felt more right than marrying Adam today. I feel like I was born to do this…like I was meant to be his wife.”

“I believe it,” Leslie said, nodding. “Seeing you two together…well, no couple has looked more in love and more harmonized to each other than you and Adam.”

Hazel just smiled her acquiescence as the two girlfriends looked at the early morning sky for a few more moments in the comfort of silence. Then, just as silently but in unspoken agreement, they went inside the ivy-entwined stone cottage.

Today was Hazel’s wedding. Time to get ready.

~~1~~

The clock sitting on the fireplace mantle ticked away the time like soldiers marching forward, each second charging into a moment and each moment that led the procession into an hour was a soldier wound up by Time.

Hazel was well aware of time’s passage as she dressed in Elizabeth Cartwright’s wedding gown, Adam’s mother. As Leslie did up the buttons in the back and straightened the seams to enhance the flow and drape of it, Hazel looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her room at Leslie’s cottage.

   Is that really me? Hazel thought upon seeing her reflection in the mirror. That girl people had called awkward and clumsy and even called ugly…is that girl with her hair arranged in a halo of ringlets around her face, wearing a white and ivory lace wedding gown with scalloped layers voluptuously frothing around her ankles, is that really me? The girl with the iridescent butterfly wings adorning her back? I look beautiful…

As if reading her thoughts, Leslie met Hazel’s gaze in the mirror and said, “You were always beautiful Hazel. Now you’re realizing it for the first time.”

“Now for the finishing touch. You will need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue,” Leslie said with a twinkle in her eye as she fixed a few more ringlets in place with her stash of pearl pins.

Hazel sighed happily as she gazed at her reflection. “I’m wearing Elizabeth Cartwright’s beautiful wedding gown for something old…and Adam already gave me something new by loving me just as I am.” Then thinking dreamily for a few seconds, she added “As for something blue, will the opal pendant count? It has a delightful dance of blue in it.”

“That will be perfect,” Leslie said as she clasped the opal teardrop necklace around Hazel’s throat. The one that Adam had given her at the farewell party for The Chocolate Bookworm.

“Now that just leaves something borrowed. I think the pearl pins I’m putting in your hair will cover that.” Hazel felt her eyes prick with unshed tears. Seeing them, Leslie said, “Now don’t start crying. You’ll ruin my make-up job.” Hazel nodded and blinked them away.

She laughed nervously as she sat down in front of the mirror and make-up dresser to put on her burgundy orthopaedic boots, fastening the brace securely at the top of her withered shin of her right clubfoot. Hazel was grateful that her boots would be hidden from view under the voluptuous flow of her wedding dress.

“You’re going to be fine,” Leslie soothed. “John will be here with the carriage any time now.”

As if summoned, the ladies heard a carriage pull up at the front of the cottage, then the heavy oak door creaked open and footsteps echoed down the hall. There was a knock just outside of the bedroom door.

“Your carriage awaits,” John said in his best formal voice as Leslie answered the door.

“We’ll be out in just a minute,” Leslie said. Then turning back to Hazel, she said with a smile, “Ready to embark on your new life now?”

Hazel nodded with a smile. “I’ve been ready for this all my life.”

Once outside, Hazel was delighted to see that the carriage was being pulled by two pristinely white horses with the softest blue eyes.

John helped the bride and her maid of honor into the carriage while he sat up front. With a click of the reins, the horses started on their short journey at a pleasant trot.

The destination: The Chocolate Bookworm at Harvard. Adam and Hazel both thought that having the wedding at The Chocolate Bookworm was the best choice – and the only one for them without question. After all, it was the beginning of their romance and courtship as Adam built The Chocolate Bookworm from that old derelict classroom at Harvard. He built Hazel’s Dream Come True and at the same time, he won her heart and love and trust. Having a “Chocolate Bookworm wedding” just seemed perfect.

Melody had been at the Café all morning setting up. The customary round tables had been removed and, in their place, chairs were arranged in rows throughout The Chocolate Bookworm, creating an aisle from the front door of the Café down which Hazel would walk to the altar that Ashton and John had put together the night before. Lining the aisle were candles along both sides, as well as candles along the altar. Crystal vases of red and white roses were scattered throughout the Café.

“Hazel! You look absolutely radiant,” Melody exclaimed upon seeing her and Leslie. The two friends embraced.

“I see you’re wearing your butterfly wings that you wore to the Valentine’s dance. No adornment could be more appropriate.”

“Oh Melody, you look so beautiful,” Hazel happily cried out as the two women parted, but with their hands still linked. Melody was coifed in shades of lavender that brought out the vibrant blue of her eyes. Her dress created a most lovely contrast against Leslie’s pink chiffon.

“What you’ve done with The Chocolate Bookworm…goes beyond mere words,” Hazel said, astonished. She just couldn’t describe the effect that the transformative beauty of the Café had on her.

“How is Adam doing?” Leslie asked, all aglow with the excitement of the wedding.

“Oh, Ashton has him in the classroom across the hall. He’s trying to remember how to breathe,” Melody giggled.

“Pernell! There you are, my sweet little bunny girl,” Hazel expressed her joy at seeing Pernell sitting so well behaved in a front row chair. Hoss had brushed her rabbit until her creamy fawn-colored fur shone lustrously. He even made a collar of freshly plucked daisies for her to wear at the wedding. Hazel was delighted to see that Pernell didn’t seem to mind wearing her daisy collar. The intuitive bunny that she was, she probably knew that it was a special day for Hazel and Adam, and so for once she made no fuss about Hoss dressing her up.

“Howdy, Miss Hazel. You’re looking mighty fine,” Hoss said shyly to his future sister-in-law.

“Thank-you Hoss,” Hazel said just as shyly. “I love the collar of daisies that you made for Pernell.”

“She’s a good rabbit. She deserved to get dressed up and be here too,” Hoss assured. “Me and Little Joe will sit up front with her to make sure she doesn’t get into mischief.”

“Thank-you Hoss, for everything you’ve done,” Hazel beamed her sincerity at her future brother-in-law in one of her brightest smiles.

“How are you doing Hazel?” Ben Cartwright asked her as he came up to her and took her hands in his.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” Hazel glowed with happiness and pure joy.

“Now, I don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” he said in his kind and gentle way.

“No, I won’t,” Hazel assured, her eyes already dewy with emotion. She saw Hoss and Little Joe sitting on either side of Pernell in the front row. Abel Stoddard was seated in the front too. The ceremony was about to start soon.

“Hazel,” Melody said softly as the bride turned around and Melody handed her bouquet to her, of which the stems to these smiles of sweetness were collectively gathered and tied with a white silk ribbon. Her bridal bouquet was put together with Hazel’s favorite flower, lilacs. There were lilacs of lavender and a deep purple, as well as the sweetest shade of pink lilacs that Melody could find. Scattered throughout her bridal bouquet of lilacs were lily-of-the-valley. Their white bell-shaped flowers created the perfect accent to the bouquet, and together their perfume intoxicated with the mingling of their springtime scent.

“Oh Melody, it’s so beautiful,” Hazel gushed rapturously, her eyes drinking in the radiance of her bridal bouquet. “While I’m adorned for my husband-to-be, my bouquet of lilacs and lily of the valley will wrap about me their veil of innocent passion.”

“Only for Adam to unwrap you later,” Melody teased coquettishly with a silvery giggle. Hazel blushed at her boldness, as Melody scurried down the aisle to the piano. She was to play The Wedding March.

Ben Cartwright, who had stepped back to give the girls their privacy, pretended he didn’t hear the remark as he stepped to Hazel’s side again.

“Shall we?” He asked with a smile as he held out his left arm to her.

Hazel took a deep breath, ready to immerse herself into the unknown of a deeper water that beckoned before her. But Hazel wasn’t afraid. She looked ahead of her and she saw Adam standing in front of the altar, with Ashton as his best man standing on Adam’s right. Somehow, they had surreptitiously entered the Café without Hazel being aware. She looked at Adam, at his eyes afire with a viridescent light…and she was not afraid. Adam was the lighthouse and Hazel the ship he was calling home. Home to moor herself into his heart. Soul. Embrace. Hazel looked at Adam and she saw her destiny waiting for her. And she was not afraid. She felt she had already been waiting a lifetime for her destiny to arrive. Now that it had, she was more than ready to embark on her journey and embrace her new life as Adam’s wife.

But just before she was about to take her first step down the aisle on Mr. Cartwright’s arm, a voice spoke up behind her.

“Hazel,” said the familiar voice.

Chapter 29…Wedding Day Surprises

 Hazel turned around and gasped in surprise. It was Papa. Professor Meadows stood before his daughter in a dark suit. His normally frizzy grey hair – what was left of it – was slicked back, but somehow it still managed to look haphazard as if it was done at the last second before running out of the house, the right lens of his spectacles had a crack in it, in the buttonhole of his jacket he had a red carnation that was missing nearly half of its petals, and his scuffed shoes were in definite need of a shine. In short, Professor Meadows looked like the classic absent-minded Professor. His old self.

“Papa…what are you doing here?” Hazel asked uncertainly. Ben Cartwright looked at this man who had disowned his own daughter with undisguised despicableness. He saw that Adam had noticed the Professor and with the stubborn determined look on his face that meant serious trouble to whoever was on the receiving end of that look Ben Cartwright knew so well, Adam took a few steps in their direction – until Ben motioned for him to stay put. He wanted to see how this was going to play out.

“Hazel…” Professor Meadows seemed to be fumbling for the words that he kept locked in his heart for way too long. “I’ve always loved you…perhaps I didn’t show it to you in the way that I should’ve, but I only wanted to protect you from the bullies at school, the predators in society who prey on the naïve and the disabled.”

“You can’t protect me from everything in life. You needed to give me the freedom to find my wings,” Hazel said softly, her voice fluttered with having a conversation with her Papa that she never had before. But one that was way overdue.

“Perhaps I sheltered you too much,” the Professor nodded. “Perhaps I did too much…or didn’t do enough.” Hazel never expected such an admission to come from Papa and surprise showed in her face.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have a disabled child and seeing that child bullied and tormented every day and feeling powerless to stop it. I tried to keep you safe in the only way I knew how – by keeping you home, away from people who may harm you,” Professor Meadows said as he looked at his daughter with a loving softness in his eyes that Hazel hadn’t seen for a very long time.

“You can’t protect me from everything. To live, you need to risk getting hurt. Like the Monarch butterfly. There is an old legend I read in one of my books that tells of a father and son out hunting one day,” Hazel began.

“They came upon a butterfly struggling to free herself from her chrysalis. She already had one wing free and it had the most beautiful vibrant colors the boy had ever seen. The freed wing looked like a living rainbow! But the other wing was still trapped inside the chrysalis. The boy wanted to help the butterfly get free, but the father said no, let her be. The boy didn’t understand why he had to leave the butterfly to struggle.”

“Later when the father was occupied at their camping site, the boy went back to the butterfly still struggling to free her other wing from her chrysalis. So, the boy helped to free her. But while her already freed wing was as vibrant as the most colorful rainbow the boy had ever seen, the wing that the boy had helped her to free was deformed and the colors dull and faded like a washed-out watercolor painting. The boy didn’t understand why.”

“The father who didn’t think his son could stay away from the struggling butterfly, had followed him and had seen the results of his efforts to help the butterfly.”

“Hearing his father approach, the boy turned to him with tears in his eyes. ‘What happened, father?’ He asked. ‘The butterfly will never be able to fly now with her wing like this.”

“It’s because you helped her, my son. It’s the struggle to free herself from her chrysalis that makes her strong. She needed the struggle to make her strong enough to fly.”

“The father was very wise,” Professor Meadows said. “If only I could be.”

“I learned of that old legend from one of the books you gave me,” Hazel smiled at her father, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“And now my beautiful butterfly daughter has found her wings and is ready to fly,” Professor Meadows said a little wistfully.

“Adam helped me to find my wings. It was his love that gave me the freedom to fly,” Hazel spoke with her newfound strength coupled by wise gentleness.

“Yes…young Mr. Cartwright has always been an extraordinary fellow,” The Professor acknowledged. “I honestly always did like him. I was just afraid of the new world he was taking you into, around people who wouldn’t understand and possibly torment you again. Then, when you had that panic attack at the opening of the Café, I feared history was going to repeat itself. That’s why I was so hard on him,” Professor Meadows tried to explain his feelings behind his extreme actions and harsh words.

“Professor, it’s never too late for a fresh start,” Ben Cartwright said hopefully, trying as was the Cartwright custom, to help families reunite. “Why don’t you stay and take my place? You should walk Hazel down the aisle.”

Professor Meadows looked at his daughter with a questioning look. Hazel just smiled, her face all aglow, and put her hand in her father’s. “Walk me to my future?” She said tenderly.

“You look beautiful,” he said warmly as he tucked her hand into the crook of his left arm. Hazel took up her cane in her right hand.

Giving a sign to Melody, she started playing The Wedding March on the piano. Ben Cartwright just looked on with a smile as big as the water is wide as Professor Meadows walked his daughter down the aisle.

Finally, Hazel made her trip down the aisle to take her place beside Adam as his partner through a lifetime of triumphs and trials, a lifetime comprised of days of sunshine and days of rain, through periods of happiness and health and periods of hardship and sickness too. Hazel would be at Adam’s side as his friend, lover, confidante, wife. As he will be for her.

She looked at Adam dressed impeccably in black pants, a white silk shirt with a black velvet vest over it. His black ribbon tie was elegantly tied at the top of his shirt…and he had a red rose laced through the buttonhole on the left side of his wedding vest. It created the perfect splash of color against the classic black and white. Red. The color of love and life, passion and eternity. His hair shone glossy-black in the soft light of The Chocolate Bookworm, its ruffled waves tamed for the moment, but still one wayward raven’s lock fell rebelliously free over his forehead.

As Reverend Clancy started the ceremony and the two lovers recited their vows to one another, Hazel felt blessed beyond any comparison. She looked into Adam’s eyes, those luminous orbs alight with the warm hearth-fire glow of love for her, and she knew by this man’s side she belonged. With the faith that had always been her strength Hazel knew that she would be with Adam for the remainder of her earthly days.

Along with saying her vows to Adam, Hazel wanted to recite a special poem that reflected the depth of her love. She spent the last week browsing through her poetry books and at last, she found the perfect poem. How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. With her hands linked with his, Hazel recited the poem to her new husband:

 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, – I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

 

By the end of the poem, a crystal cascade of tears was coursing freely down Hazel’s heart-shaped face. Then, as Reverend Clancy pronounced them husband and wife, Adam kissed the quivering pink blossom of Hazel’s lips. This kiss, though sweetly supped just like the couple’s host of previous kisses, was a little more chaste and constrained. They were standing before their friends and family and Adam didn’t want to give rein to his customary smoldering kiss with an audience. That could wait for a more private moment.

The guests proceeded to throw rice at the newlyweds as they turned to go back up the aisle, this time as husband and wife.

All except Little Joe. Instead, the impetuous twelve-year-old took off his shoe and with perfect aim he threw it at Adam, the air-born shoe hitting his older brother squarely in the back of the head!

“Little Joe! What do you think you’re doing!” Ben Cartwright thundered his outrage, shocked and embarrassed by the inappropriate behavior of his youngest son.

“I read in a book that it’s a tradition in England to throw shoes at newly married couples,” Little Joe explained innocently.

“Well, this is not England and you don’t throw shoes at your brother on his wedding day!” shouted the exasperated father.

“Yes, Pa,” Little Joe mumbled sheepishly.

Hoss just cuffed the impish youth on the head, reproaching him as he said, “Shortshanks, when will you learn to behave?” Even Pernell the bunny was startled by Little Joe’s conduct.

Over the next few hours, the festivities and merriment commenced in the adjoining classroom where tables were set up and laden with the couple’s favorite foods. There was Shepherd’s Pie, beer-battered cod, fried slices of potatoes, bacon and cheese melts, Boston baked beans, and pink champagne to make the wedding toast. The bar was also stocked with other alcohol and ingredients; and it was at her wedding that Hazel taught Melody how to make a chocolate martini.

For dessert, they had their favorite chocolate hazelnut shortbread and mocha pecan pie, followed by the wedding cake. Melody had used her culinary artistic skills to create the wedding cake. It was a three-tiered chocolate fudge cake with white chocolate frosting. Each frosted layer was abundantly drizzled with melted dark chocolate. The sides of the cake (all three layers) was decorated with strawberry-flavored pink flowers that Melody had learned to make especially for this matrimonial occasion. The base of each layer of the cake was garnished with chocolate-dipped whole strawberries alternating with chocolate cookies sandwiched with whipped cream between them. Dark chocolate curls garnished the base of each layer as well. Crowning the top of this artistically-inclined chocolate wedding cake was a bride and groom that Melody had molded from chocolate hazelnut shortbread dough. Hazel’s and Adam’s favorite cookie. It was a little misshapen, but the couple thought it was perfect.

Adam and Hazel were deeply touched by the toast that Ben Cartwright made in their honor. The spoon on his crystal glass made a twinkling bell-like sound very much like church bells echoing throughout The Chocolate Bookworm and it was enough to get the guests’ attention. As the last twinkling echo faded to stillness, Ben Cartwright stood up and raised his crystal glass of pink champagne.

“I’d like to make a toast to my eldest son Adam and his lovely bride Hazel on this special day. A wedding is just a ceremony that lasts a day, but a marriage born of love, trust and faith in each other lasts a lifetime. May you Adam, Hazel, have a lifetime of love ahead of you.”

“Adam, you’re the first of my sons to marry and I couldn’t have wished for a lovelier wife for you than Hazel. I’m glad you found her and may your marriage be cemented with the same enduring love that I shared with your mother.”

“Hoss, Little Joe, I hope you will show the same good sense by following your brother’s example by marrying too, when the time comes.” Then looking directly at the impetuous Little Joe, he said “and I hope you will not need a boot thrown at your head to knock some sense in you when you do meet your future wife”. The guests laughed lightly at this and Ben smiled warmly as he sat down. Little Joe looked a little sheepish but he couldn’t help laughing too.

While enjoying the informal mirth of the evening, Professor Meadows approached the newlyweds.

“Adam, I have a special gift for you,” he said as he thrusted a hastily wrapped package in Adam’s hands.

“Ahh, thank-you Professor Meadows,” he said courteously, trying not to stare at the Professor’s glazed eyes while wondering how many chocolate martinis he had.

“Go ahead, open it, my boy,” the Professor encouraged enthusiastically. Hazel just smiled, a little awkwardly too, as she had a feeling she knew what the gift was.

So, Adam unwrapped the Professor’s gift, opened the rather large box and reached inside…and pulled out a stuffed taxidermied beaver. It was standing up on its hind feet, its front feet reaching out in front of it with its claws extended as if ready for attack. And it was snarling. Yes, the beaver was definitely frozen in attack mode.

“Um…why thank-you Professor. But you shouldn’t have…” Adam said politely. Hazel’s smile remained frozen on her face. As frozen as that beaver.

“Nonsense, my boy! I wanted to give you something to dress up that ranch of yours. To add personality. I got it on my expedition to Canada a few years ago,” Professor Meadows said cheerfully.

“Yes…well, it’s certainly something the Ponderosa doesn’t have. I’m sure it will be very useful…” Adam continued politely.

“…in scaring away unwanted guests,” Little Joe mumbled under his breath as he came over to stand beside Adam.

“I’m glad you like it. Carry on, then,” the inebriated Professor said as he shook Adam’s hand and wandered back to the bar for another chocolate martini. Adam watched him go, then turned his attention back to the unusual gift in his hands.

“Hey, do you think this will work to scare away Abigail Jones? Maybe it’s not such a useless gift after all,” Little Joe said hopefully.

“No, you will not be using the gift from my father-in-law to scare anyone away – no matter who they are. Nor will you throw shoes at people ever again,” Adam reprimanded.

“Hey, sorry about that, Adam, I was just funning…are you terribly mad?” Little Joe said with a little laugh, wondering if his older brother was already thinking up a plan to get back at him.

“That’s alright, Joe. And no, I’m not mad at you. It’s only what I expected from my irrepressible younger brother. All I will say is that somehow, someday that shoe is going to come back at you,” Adam said in a very calm, even voice. The kind of voice that made Little Joe nervous. Hazel giggled discreetly as this brotherly display.

Little Joe just gave a little self-conscious laugh as he wandered away, wondering what Adam had in store for him one day.

Scrutinizing the snarling taxidermied beaver that he was still holding, Adam said to Hazel, “Do you think your father will ever forgive me for marrying you?”

“Why, of course! Now, I know better than anyone that Papa has his faults, but I think he really likes you,” Hazel tried to sound reassuring, her hand resting on Adam’s arm.

“I can tell. His wedding gift is baring its teeth at me.”

Both Adam and Hazel enjoyed a laugh at the eccentricity of her father, then setting aside the angry-looking beaver like somber grey thoughts that he recognized as being too trivial to let them mar the storybook happiness of their wedding day, Adam turned his attention to Hazel. His bride, his wife, the shining jewel of his heart.

The late afternoon sun sailed to the west, her golden gaiety and scarlet smiles joined together to smote down on the window of the old classroom as if it was a cathedral. Her grandeur shone within, turning the deep shadows into a shallow harbor of reflections and quiet corners that exhaled the stale grey of what was.

It shone on Hazel’s hair until her gold burst into flame. A smile bloomed across her face and Adam knew no flower could equal the rosy glow that Hazel radiated at him. She was the purest, most beautiful flower he had ever seen.

“You look beautiful, Mrs. Cartwright,” Adam said, mesmerized by the vision before him. She was no maiden of the mist that came to him in some half-forgotten dream, but as real as love blushing her way into reality.

“Mrs. Cartwright…I like the sound of that,” Hazel beamed her happiness at Adam in her soft-spoken way. She didn’t say anything else– she didn’t have to – there were some moments that went beyond the ability of mere words to describe them. And this was one of those moments.

Instead, Hazel took Adam’s outstretched hand as he led her to a secluded corner. Adam. Her husband bursting full of vitality in the prime of his manhood.

Then, as Melody started playing a slow waltz on the piano, Adam took Hazel in his arms and just as he did at the Valentine’s dance, he lifted her up and placed her booted feet on top of his black leather cowboy boots. And they danced.

Cloistered away in their own private corner, they finally felt free to succumb to the magnetic pull that each had over the other and with Adam’s muscular arms around her and Hazel’s feet on top of Adam’s, they engaged in the type of passionate kissing that they weren’t comfortable to indulge in front of their wedding guests. Even though they were family and friends, some kisses were not meant for public display. They were too sacred.

 

Chapter 30…Homeward Bound

Soon, dusk descended and drowned the horizon in her gold and rosy blossoms, freeing the full moon to make her ascent until she was a ghostly lady enthroned in the night sky and the stars were jeweled notches in her belt. While Adam and Hazel enjoyed being surrounded by such pure beauty orchestrated not by man, but by Mother Nature, they knew the wedding festivities would continue without them as it was time for the couple to embark on the next theme of their journey together: their Honeymoon.

San Francisco awaited them with her pomp and polish, her museums and opera houses, her music halls and poetry cafes, her carriage rides and the city’s various places of finely-tuned culture where many a romantic rendezvous had taken place. Adam promised to show them all to her…and more.

One of the reasons they were going to San Francisco for their honeymoon – besides celebrating their marriage as they finally indulged in the physical expressions of their love – was to meet Dr. Collins.

As Adam read in the medical journals that Leslie had given him, Dr. Collins was a specialist in the field of clubfoot and its treatment. Adam had already wired a telegram to Dr. Collins and he was expecting them. The couple was hoping that he might be able to design a better brace and shoe for Hazel, or even to perform some procedure to improve the condition of her clubfoot. Though Hazel did her stretching exercises everyday faithfully, whether Adam was there or not, and always finished by wrapping it up securely in fresh bandages…but perhaps this Dr. Collins knew something else he could do to help Hazel?

It was almost too much to dream about for Hazel. Undoubtedly, it would be a dream come true for her, she never thought improvement was possible, and now to find out maybe something could be done…dare she believe? Oh, how she wanted to. Hazel told herself to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. She didn’t want to have her dreams dashed to dust again. If Dr. Collins, after examining her clubfoot, says nothing more can be done, then Hazel would not be any worse off. In fact, her life will still be better because she had Adam now. Her husband, best friend, lover.

Whatever happens with Dr. Collins in San Francisco, they will face it together. Whatever happens, Hazel will be alright. They both will be. In fact, better than alright. Because neither was alone now. They had each other. Together forever. It’s their love that will give them the strength to go on.

Then onwards they will go home to the Ponderosa in Nevada, where her new family will be waiting to welcome her home. Her father-in-law and two brothers…plus a beautiful dappled grey horse named Beloved.

Hazel never had a horse before, and she was looking forward to getting to know her mare and becoming best friends. Beloved was no ordinary horse either. She had been born, raised and trained at The Equine Escort Ranch to assist those with disabilities or special needs. Beloved was such a therapy companion horse, one of the best that The Equine Escort Ranch had. Both Adam and his father said that Beloved will be all settled at the Ponderosa once the newlyweds arrive. So, even if Dr. Collins couldn’t help her, Hazel will have Beloved.

Hazel felt her future couldn’t be rosier. She couldn’t wait for it to unfurl before her, each beauteous petal peeling away to reveal the glorious center. And in that center was Adam.

~~1~~

“Here are your suitcases Hazel,” Melody said cheerfully as she set them down on the floor next to Pernell in her carrier, contentedly munching on her hay. “Leslie and I packed all your belongings at her cottage. The two friends embraced, tears glistening in Hazel’s blue-grey eyes. Adam picked up the suitcases and stepped back to allow the friends to say their goodbyes.

“Thank-you Melody, Leslie, thank-you so much for all you’ve done,” Hazel spoke from the wellspring of her heart. “You are my first real friends and the best friends I could ever have hoped for…I can’t thank-you enough for your friendship,” Hazel said in her soft voice quivering with the release of emotion. Once deeply sewn and sensitively grown, this dream of having a bosom friend flew from her and made her nest in reality.

Then she gave a heartfelt embrace to Leslie. “Thank-you for being a part of my wedding and for making it so special.”

“Hey, no more tears on your wedding day,” Leslie said as she blinked away the tears swimming in her single blue eye. “And this is not really goodbye. We’ll see you again.” Hazel nodded, unable to speak for the moment.

Then Leslie picked up a carpet bag that had been sitting on a chair, unnoticed by Hazel. With a secretive smile she handed the bag over to Melody. “Since this was your idea, you may have the honors of giving it to her,” she said mysteriously. Adam and Hazel looked puzzled.

“This is a special bonus for you from the both of us,” Melody said cheerfully, giving Hazel a sly wink as she handed the bag to her. “I’m sure you will find use for it on your Honeymoon.”

“Um, thank-you,” Hazel said again, taking the handles of the bag that contained a mystery. A delightful mystery Hazel surmised from the look of Melody’s and Leslie’s smiles.

Then Adam stepped forward and put his left arm around Hazel’s waist, pulling her against him comfortingly. He knew how hard it was for her to leave everything familiar behind her.

“Hazel, I hope you will come for a visit soon,” Abel Stoddard said as he took her hand in his. “You’re my only granddaughter-in-law. I know Elizabeth would love you too.”

“Thank-you grandfather Stoddard,” Hazel said as she kissed his cheek.

“Hazel, I guess the next time we see you will be at the Ponderosa, your new home,” Ben Cartwright said kindly as he took his turn to kiss the bride.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Hazel said happily.

“You’ll love it,” Adam said as he walked his new bride to the waiting carriage.

“But not as much as I love you,” Hazel glowed her love at her new husband.

“Hey Adam, we haven’t had the chance to give you our wedding present yet,” Little Joe called out as he and Hoss ran to catch up with the newlyweds.

“I thought you already did with that shoe you threw at me,” Adam scoffed.

“Heck no, I was just funning, I told you…” Little Joe trailed off.

“You mean there’s more you have planned for me? Adam teased his brothers in the fashion that they were accustomed to.

“We been planning’ a special surprise for ya, big brother, jus’ wait until ya see it,” Hoss assured him with a good-natured grin.

“It’s at the train station. It was Mr. Hensley’s idea,” Joe said enthusiastically.

“You see, we didn’t know what to get ya for your wedding, but Mr. Hensley came up with this idea of something you both will love,” Hoss explained.

“We’ve been working on it for the past two weeks,” chimed in Little Joe.

“You’ve awakened my curiosity. I can’t wait to see it,” Adam said, genuinely interested in what his brothers had been planning for him and his new bride.

“Me too. I’ve been wondering what you two have been working on all this time at the railroad. But never have I seen a pair of tighter-lipped bandits,” Ben Cartwright said as he joined the group, placing a hand on Little Joe’s scrawny shoulder and the other on Hoss’ beefy shoulder.

“Adam, how about you and Hazel take your carriage to the train station, while your brothers and I follow along in a second one,” Ben said as he, Hoss and Joe headed to another stage, leaving Adam and Hazel to the privacy of their own wedding coach.

~~2~~

Hazel admired the view from their stage coach, allowing its revelry to warm her soul just like the sun sought to pledge his warmth to the dark secret places of nature, warming nature’s garret with the rosy cheek of maidenly days, promising more enchantment with the unraveling of Summer’s sweet sultriness.

It was just a short ride to the train station but Hazel knew she was seeing it if not for the last time, then for a very long time. She just wanted to soak in nature’s ambiance that had been her friend for so long. Adam knew this and with the fingers of his right hand laced with her left, he allowed Hazel the time she needed to say goodbye, for which Hazel was very grateful.

She admired the sky, the blue sky that was as majestic as snowy-crowned mountains, only this one was painted from the blue of halcyon whimsies. An ethereal sea where the clouds were a vast school of minnows swimming across their airy expanse, too plentiful for Hazel to count, but how the sight of it aroused her imagination!

“This is not goodbye…I promise we will come back for a visit,” the soothing honeyed tones of Adam’s voice sprinkled love upon the thirsty soil of her soul. Hazel turned to him with a radiant smile.

“Are you very sad to leave your home,” he asked tenderly, gazing into the cloudless warmth of her eyes.

“No. My home is where you are. Always.” Hazel had never said anything that she felt held more truth than those words.

Adam smiled his pleasure at her; a smile of pure love that held enough sunshine to chase away the darkest shadows for all eternity.

“Lake Tahoe, the Sierra mountains, and the Ponderosa Pines are so beautiful.  I know you’ll love them.”

“I’m looking forward to becoming acquainted with them.”

Adam’s mouth claimed hers; his lips were a heated promise of more intimacies that were soon to come, intimacies that Hazel was eager to learn as she yielded the sweetness of her mouth to Adam’s ever deepening kiss. Then, breathlessly they parted. This was not the time to indulge their appetites for the other. But that was soon to come.

“So, what’s in the bag that Melody and Leslie gave you?” Adam asked as a means of distracting themselves from the heat that was still palpable between them.

“Um…I don’t know,” Hazel said, bringing her mind to the new subject at hand. “Let’s find out.”

So, Hazel unbuttoned the top of the carpet bag in her lap and peered inside. There was a lot of pink and white in there…black too. Hazel reached in and her hand came into contact with what felt like satin and lace – the bag was full of this sheer fabric. Hazel pulled out several pieces…and was speechless. It was full of lingerie, the skimpiest and most daring lingerie that was designed to reveal more than hide. The sheerest satin and the filmiest fabric and the laciest lingerie in mostly white and pink, but with a few naughty black numbers in there too, and even one siren red. Hazel felt her skin burst into flame.

Adam was speechless too, but slowly he started to smile, then his smile turned into a chuckle. “Well, it looks like it’s a wedding present for both of us.” In spite of her bashfulness, Hazel laughed too.

~~3~~

“Mr. Cartwright, it’s good to see you again,” Mr. Hensley greeted Ben with a firm handshake.

“Mr. Hensley, how have my boys been?” Ben greeted the train conductor.

“Oh, they’re both good hard workers. And you must be Adam, the eldest, just married,” Mr. Hensley said upon seeing Adam.

“Yes sir,” Adam replied as he shook the older man’s hand.

“And his lovely bride,” Mr. Hensley nodded and tipped his hat upon seeing Hazel.

“Your brothers worked mighty hard putting together a special wedding present for you. I helped too, when needed. But I tell you, they were quite lost at first, not knowing what to get for you and your Mrs and then we came up with this idea…and both Hoss and Joe worked hard putting it together…with a little guidance from me,” said Mr. Hensley, obviously proud of his two new workers.

Ben Cartwright just gave his younger sons a warm loving smile, proud of them. He knew that whatever they had worked together to present to Adam for a wedding gift was done out of love. As Adam knew as well.

“Hoss, Little Joe, why don’t you show Adam your wedding gift now. The train will be ready to go in just a few short minutes,” Mr. Hensley said, giving the family their privacy as he checked on a few things concerning the train, making sure it was ready to depart on time.

“Right this way, Adam, on the last car of the train,” Hoss said with that mysterious grin that both he and Little Joe were still wearing.

Adam helped Hazel up the few steps to the train’s platform. Then he opened the door of the car…and the newlyweds looked in amazement. The train’s car had been transformed into a honeymoon suite, decorated in white, cream, and ivory.

Sitting very prominently in the middle of the room was a giant bed with white bedsheets and a cream-colored bedspread. The oversized pillows were white with a fringe of ivory satin framing them. The bed had a canopy top fit for a queen. The filmy gossamer fabric of the canopy was cream and ivory with handmade flowers put together with the same creamy gossamer but with a fringe of white lace around each “petal”, and every corner of the canopy was adorned with a cluster of these handmade fabric flowers.

And then there were the rose petals. There was an abundance of deep red rose petals strewn all over the luxurious bed, but not done randomly. Painstaking care was taken to arrange them in a giant heart shape pattern in the center of the bed, with some scattered around the heart. The sight of the floral design on their bed took Hazel’s breath away. Adam was stunned too by the care that was obviously taken to arrange such a wealth of rose petals into a heart. He smiled to think of his two brothers spending the morning plucking petals from dozens of roses so they would have enough to accomplish their task.

Also, in the honeymoon suite were a set of cedar-wood night tables, one on each side of the opulent bed. A lamp made of the finest white porcelain with an exquisitely painted design of pink flowers around the center of the base sat on each night table. Also, on the night tables sat a few books. “The Complete Works of Shakespeare”, “The Sonnets of Elizabeth Barrett Browning”, and of course the poetry of Hazel’s dear friend Emily Dickinson, as well as a book on classic love poems. Along the wall was a cedar writing desk with a drawer stocked full of writing stationary, ornamentally designed. As well as an assortment of pens too. There was even a small bar stocked with brandy, pink champagne, Tequila Rose, as well as the ingredients they would need to make a chocolate martini.

Around the room were rolled up folds of the gossamer cream and ivory fabric elegantly draped with fabric flowers of white satin and white lace. And the finishing touch: There were white curtains on the windows to ensure the couple had their privacy.

“I don’t know what to say…” began Adam.

“Now that’s a first. The Plato of the Ponderosa doesn’t know what to say,” quipped Little Joe.

“Thank-you. Thank-you so much, this suite goes beyond a dream,” Adam said, moved by the show of his brothers’ love and the work they put into designing this honeymoon suite for them.

“It’s all so beautiful…a dream come true. It’s like something out of a fairy tale,” Hazel said, visibly moved by this gift.

“The train is already to depart,” Mr. Hensley said as he came around the corner.

“Thank-you so much, Mr. Hensley, for all the help you gave my brothers in designing this suite,” Adam said warmly as he shook the kind train conductor’s hand.

“Aww, it was my pleasure. All the best to you and the Mrs on the start of your new life together,” Mr. Hensley said kindly, then went back to the engine room.

Hoss discreetly placed the suitcases and Pernell in her carrier just inside the suite door. Then with a tip of his hat to Hazel, he stepped off the platform. The sunshine of Hazel’s smile was all the thanks he needed.

“Adam, we’ll see you in about two months at the Ponderosa,” Bed said, the love in his voice evident. “Hazel, I hope Dr. Collins will have some good news for you. I’ll be praying for you,” he said, taking Hazel’s hand in his.

“Thank-you Mr. Cartwright –“

“You may call me Pa now. We’re family,” Ben interrupted. His smile was warm and genuine. And very welcoming.

“Pa. That sounds so nice,” Hazel said softly, tears threatening to burst the banks of her blue-grey eyes. “Thank-you for your kindness, thank-you for accepting me into your family…and thank-you for your prayers too. But whatever happens with Dr. Collins we’ll be alright, Adam and I. Because we’re together, for now and always,” Hazel said, her voice fluttering like butterfly wings.

“I know you will be,” Ben said gently as he kissed her cheek then stepped off the train’s platform. Just in time too, as the whistle spouted. The train slowly started to move, then gained speed. Adam and Hazel stood just outside of their honeymoon suite door waving to his father and brothers until they were out of sight.

Then Adam turned his attention to Hazel. He picked her up, cradling her in his strong arms as if she was the most precious package he had ever been privileged to hold, and he carried her across the threshold into their honeymoon suite, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Alone at last,” Adam whispered hotly in her ear as his sultry lips found hers, searing Hazel with the promise of unbridled passion that was yet to come.

Hazel gave a soft moan as she yielded the sweetness of her mouth to the delicious branding of Adam’s. Carefully, he set her down on her feet, but they never broke contact. Hazel wrapped her arms around Adam’s neck, drawing his head down closer to her so she could enjoy a dessert that she was finding to be much more satisfying than chocolate.

Adam’s arms were gift-wrapped around her, holding her closely against him until her every curve was melded to his hot form. Slowly, his hands moved from her willowy waist upwards…to the lacings at the back of her wedding gown. His agile fingers undid them…

Once, only a month ago, Adam would have stopped himself from taking the physical expressions of his love too far. But this time, he didn’t stop. And neither did Hazel.

 

I want to be in your embrace

And know that I’m loved at last…

I want to feel my body and soul moor

Itself against the safe harbor of yours

And know that I’m home at last…

 

At long last Hazel had a home. Finally, Hazel had a family.

 

~ THE END ~

 

Author’s Note:

Well, here are… The End…or is it? I left room for a possible sequel.   This is my very first book…and I didn’t even start off to write a book. At first, it just started off with me writing about the kind of ideal date I would like to have with Adam, and incorporating into that date I drew on my three favorite things: snow, poetry, and chocolate.

I really indulged my romantic side with those snowy dates, and with that Valentine’s date too…having Adam come in through the window for Hazel and then taking her to the dance in a horse-drawn sleigh just seems so deliciously romantic to me. I wish I could find a real man to climb through my bedroom window, ever since I saw the movie “Romeo and Juliet” (1968 version) I dreamed of that kind of romantic courting. But I know that I probably never will, since I live on the 6^th floor. But I had fun writing and fantasizing about it. I’m glad you enjoyed reading all this romance.

Some may say that romance is dead – or is it chivalry? But I’ll declare with my last breath that romance and chivalry are not dead, at least not to me. (Although, I admit that chivalry seems to be an endangered species). But then I’m very romantic, and maybe idealistic you can say.

Besides indulging my romantic reveries, writing this story was important to me on another level: I had not yet read a story where Adam falls in love with a physically disabled woman. So far, all the stories I’ve read feature Adam involved with a physically perfect lady. And since recently becoming physically-challenged myself with the progression of my osteo-arthritis, and an increase of my panic attacks too, it was important for me to write a story where Adam falls in love with a lady who is not so physically perfect, and even has some mental health issues too. That way, I could feel that if I were to meet Adam (if he wasn’t a fictional character) than there was a chance for Adam to fall in love with me even with my physical challenges and panic attacks.

Parts of this story are true: Hazel is a reflection of me with my panic attacks, and though I don’t have a clubfoot, I have osteo-arthritis in my right hip which cause me to limp. Also, with Hazel being bullied at school and at home and being estranged from family, I drew on my own experiences. During the course of writing this book, I was disowned and cast out by what family I had left and I used some of the same dialogue between Hazel and Professor Meadows in Chapters 11 and 17. I found it very cathartic to write this book.

I also got my very first bunny Pernell and love her so much that I had to write her into the story. But then a tragedy struck my heart when I lost my sweet gecko Reverie, but I wrote a memorial scene for her at the end of Chapter 25. It took me 8 months to write this book and like Hazel, I went through a lot of changes too. So, I’m glad that some of you enjoyed this story as there is a lot of me in it.

Poems Quoted:

The Lady of Shalott ~ Lord Tennyson

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage ~ Lord Byron

The Prisoner ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

That Grand Old Poem Called Winter ~ Henry David Thoreau

Frozen Flame ~ Heather Chrysalis Mead

To Thine Own Self Be True ~ William Shakespeare

Romeo and Juliet ~ William Shakespeare

To Make A Prairie ~ Emily Dickinson

If I Had A Flower ~ Lord Tennyson

Awakening ~ Heather Chrysalis Mead

Eclipse ~ Heather Chrysalis Mead

Nocturne ~ Heather Chrysalis Mead

She Walks In Beauty ~ Lord Byron

Sonnet 1 ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How Do I Love Thee? ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Safe Harbor ~ Heather Chrysalis Mead

 

Bibliography:

The War That Saved My Life

By Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Publisher: Puffin Books

Copyright: 2015

 

Lord Byron’s Deformed Foot: A Medical and Biographical Assessment

By J.V. Hirschmann

Publisher: Liverpool University Press

Copyright: 2020

 

Mrs. Sharp’s Traditions: Reviving Victorian Family Celebrations of Comfort & Joy

By Sarah Ban Breathnach

Publisher: The Simple Abundance Press

Copyright: 2001

 

Tags:  chocolate, crippled, disabled, poetry

 

Disclaimer:  I do not own any recognizable Bonanza characters or the setting created by David Dortort.  No copyright infringement is intended.  Original characters are the property of the author.