He saw her in the moonlight, the golden tones of her hair illuminated in the rich warmth of the night sky. She stood before the ship's wheel, her slim hands holding the spindles lovingly. He could tell from the look on her face that she was deep in thought, but that they were happy
thoughts. And he wondered, somewhat proudly he would admit, if the thoughts were about him.
She leaned her head against the smooth wood of the wheel and closed her eyes. Never had he known anyone as lovely as this woman he was watching now. Carolyn Muir was the woman he had waited for, even when he had not realized he was waiting. So many women had come and gone in his lifetime. He had often thought, why settle for just one? If he had only known.
Since their first meeting, he had tried to remember what he might have been doing November 28, 1936, the day he had learned she was born. He was sure that, for him, it had just been another day in his existence as a ghost. Surely if he had known that his soulmate was on that day
being born in a Philadelphia hospital, the day would have been different, stood out from all the others. At that point, he had already been removed from life 67 years, which was nothing in the vastness of the eternity that spread before him.
Surely the ground should have shook or the waves crashed a little higher when the doctor had held up the new squirming baby and given her a slap across her bottom. Surely when she had breathed her first bit of air and had squalled at the taste of it, something should have happened. Somehow, he, Daniel Gregg, should have known that the love of his life was just then being laid in her mother's arms, her proud father beaming at the now two women in his life. The woman for whom he would wait another 32 years was being dressed in little flannel night things and paraded before friends and relatives with a sign over her crib that said 'Williams--girl'.
And yet for him, existence had been the same. Never a clue that in a short span of time, the world he had come to know after his demise would be changed. And if he had known, would he have believed it? Part of being a good captain was making sure everyone trusted you but you
trusted no one. No, he wouldn't have believed it if the proclamation had come from heaven itself. And yet, here she was, his soulmate, the love of his life, the woman for whom he had waited, standing by his ship's wheel, lost in her own thoughts as she was bathed by moonlight.
His two loves together, a part of each other and a part of him. The sea had been his love, his first love. As a boy it had called to him, he could almost hear it call his name. One time he remembered climbing up into his mother's lap and telling her that when he grew up he wanted to marry the sea. She had hugged him close and tousled his curls and told him he was quite her little man. He still missed her. After all this time, he missed her.
"Daniel?" Carolyn lifted up her head and looked around in his direction. "There you are," she smiled. "I thought I heard something."
"Enjoying the evening?" he asked, walking over beside her and laying his hands on her shoulders. Touch, what a wonderful thing. How people took it for granted, himself included. He had never realized how much of the world involved touch, but he had never cared until she had come.
He didn't know if it was a miracle or science or a shift in the earth's crust and he didn't care. But he did know that even as he was now, he could hold her in his arms, kiss her lips, make love to her.
"It's so peaceful tonight," she said. "I've been listening to the waves talking and the sea gulls answering and the wind whispering its secrets to me." She leaned her head back until she could look in his eyes. "Do you think I'm silly?"
"Never," he swore and he meant it. "The soul of the writer is in you, that's for sure."
She turned around and buried her face against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her slim frame. "I love you, Daniel Gregg," she said, so quietly that her words were almost lost in his chest. "You are my world."
Tipping her chin up, he kissed her tenderly, a kiss that became much more before it was ended. With shaking hands, she put her arms around his neck and brought his lips down to hers, teasing them with her tongue. His mouth opened at her insistence and they played a game of tongues, chasing one another, ending in a jumble, stroking the need that they both were beginning to feel. Without saying a word, they took hands and walked into the master bedroom, shutting the French Doors behind them.
Later that evening, as he returned from his nightly rounds, he watched her sleeping, a look of peace on her lovely face. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek and reached out for her hand. His soul mate, his love, the one he had waited for. She was indeed worth it all.