Across Eternity (17 page)

They saw most of the world from the windows of a private jet. They hopped
from one country and continent to another spending time in out-of-the-way
places, which Logan had claimed were some of the only places worth seeing.
There was no itinerary and no restrictions. They went wherever they wanted when
they wanted. Logan insisted on this. He felt some places took longer to
appreciate while others only needed a moment to be experienced.

They chose bed and breakfasts and cabins and cottages, to five star hotels.
They opted for quiet back roads instead of major freeways. For them it was
important to take it slow—to enjoy the time they were sharing.

They visited rolling hills dotted with little villages and crumbling country
castles, which had been owned by monarch’s centuries before. They saw
areas that were so green and lush they looked like pictures out of a magazine.
Other places were crisp and brown and hotter than anything they’d ever
experienced. In spite of the conditions, they enjoyed them all.

Time had become virtually nonexistent to them. They did what they wanted to
do regardless of the hour. Sometimes they made love all day and went out all
night. Other times they did nothing more than watch the world go by.

To Amber’s amazement, Logan knew many languages. He became very
modest, almost embarrassed, when she had asked him about it. With a simple
shrug, he had told her he’d never studied the languages he’d just
picked them up along the way. He also claimed, in his own reserved way, that he
wasn’t fluent in anything other than English, but Amber thought he
communicated just fine with the locals.

What also surprised Amber was the fact that Logan had many friends. It
didn’t matter where they were. He always seemed to know someone. There
were hands shake, formal bows, welcoming hugs, and warm greetings waiting for
him at just about every stop. Oddly, he didn’t seem like a foreigner but
rather an inhabitant to most of the places they visited. She envied how he so
easily and comfortably fit in.

Amber had seen places she would have never been able to see on her own.
Traveling like this was not only an adventure but also a chance of a lifetime.
Logan had put the world in the palm of her hands and as he did he’d done
nothing more but smile softly at her amazement and excitement and allow her to
process it at her own pace.

He loved introducing her to new things— different cuisines, beautiful
cultures, and amazing countries. He took the time to explain history,
traditions, and even the struggles each place experienced. He was excited and
eager about it all. It was as if he was experiencing it all for the first time
too.

He had a passion for travel—actually for people and their way of life.
He claimed the diversity between races, religions, political beliefs, and even
income levels, enriched them and gave them a perspective that they
couldn’t get anywhere else.

Logan had told her, if done right and time and money permitting, traveling
around the world could be a life changing journey. He had said that he found
making connections with others, even other travelers, allowed one to discover
so much about their selves.

Amber couldn’t have agreed more. At first, she was nervous and very
intimidated, but with Logan’s help and sheer enthusiasm she loosened up.
Under romantic torchlight she dipped her toe in the ancient Roman Baths. She
drank tea, out of the finest China, with royalty at one of the oldest tea rooms
in England. In Mongolia she hiked to a remote orphanage where she and Logan had
the privilege of learning songs from the children. In Africa she danced with
tribal women during a marriage ceremony.

As she acclimated to the new experiences and people she became more
adventurous. Logan loved to see her so daring. She couldn’t believe she
co-piloted a seaplane, paddled a gondola, and actually rode a camel. She ate
fried crickets, a fish so poisonous that if it wasn’t cooked right she
could die, and octopus tentacles—served fresh and still wiggling.

She found it amazing to be so free. She gained so much just by letting go,
opening her mind, and embracing. Courage and curiosity replaced fear and
uncertainty. Everything was significant—both big and little. She had
laughed, cried, sat in silence and experienced the stillness of the moment and
all of it made her a better person.

It was six weeks into their trip, when on the jet, Logan surprised her.
"Come and sit by me."

Amber set down the camera she was fiddling with and moved across the plane.
"What is it?" she asked at she took a seat next to him.

"I’ve saved the best place for last."

"What? I thought we were going to go home."

"I have one more place I’d like you to see."

"Where?" she asked excitedly.
"I
can’t possibly imagine."

He held out his closed fist and said, "This is for you."

Amber opened her hand and he dropped the item in it.
"A
key?"
It was an old, brass bone key. "Is this real?"

He nodded. "It’s a key to a cottage in Ireland."

"We’re going to Ireland?" she said breathlessly.

"If you want to get
lost
in Ireland then I believe I’ve
found the perfect place."

She grasped the key and held it to her chest. "Oh, Logan, are you
serious?"

"Yes." He kissed her on the lips. "It took a lot of
searching but I’m confident it will meet your expectations."

When they landed at the small airport there was an even smaller car waiting
for them.

"This looks like a clown car," Amber said as she handed Logan
her suitcase. "Are you sure we’ll fit into it?" She giggled
as she moved around the car and viewed it from another angle. It was drab gray
and only a two door—maybe that’s why it looked so small.

"Of course we will," Logan said as he loaded their things in the
undersized trunk, grunting as he had to stuff with all his might.

"Are Irish people tiny?" She asked as she got in to the car and
searched for the seat belt. Her knees were almost touching the dash. She had no
idea how Logan was going to fit if she barely did.

"We’ll have to see," Logan said with a grin. He slammed the
trunk. When it popped back open he pushed harder. After hearing the click, he
then walked around to the driver’s side and slid into the seat.
"Our humble abode is about an hour drive from here," he said as he
put the key in the ignition and started the car.

Amber looked at him peculiarly. "You feel weird being on that
side."

"You say that every time," Logan pointed out as he pulled into
traffic and shifted the car into the next gear.

"It feels weird every time," she admitted truthfully as she
pointed to the empty space in front of her. "There should be a steering
wheel here. I just feel like I should be driving."

"We saw how that worked out for us in Australia. You won’t be
driving in Ireland, my dear."

She looked at him swiftly. "We missed that other car by at least a
couple feet."

"Inches," he corrected and half laughed.

"You were too busy yanking the wheel and yelling at me," she
challenged. "So how would you know?"

"I know because I could see the color of the other person’s
eyes. They were brown and filled with fear."

"Nonsense," she said dismissively and she turned and glanced out
her window and ignored him.

Several miles into their drive they knew they were heading out of
civilization because the motorway had turned into a narrow, country road and
they hadn’t seen another car for at least five miles. They drove over
rolling hills and through several small towns, and charming villages.

Amber sucked in a deep breath of the cool air as she rolled down her window.
"Look. Up there." She pointed out the window to a hill dotted with
sheep. "How many do you think there are?"

"Hundreds maybe."

"At least," she said in amazement. "Tell me about where
we’re going?"

"It’s supposed to be a surprise."

"Give me a hint." She held her fingers an inch apart as she
squinted through them and looked at him.
"Just a little
one."

"The village near the cottage is called Inistioge. It’s a small
town nestled in the
Nore
River Valley. It’s
surrounded by rolling hills and of course the river. They have parks and
gardens, and excellent restaurants. I’ve heard it’s quite charming
and very pretty."

"Sounds lovely.
I’m hungry. Can we eat
in Inistioge?"

Logan glanced at his watch. "Sure. We’re about 20 kilometers
away?"

As they pulled into Inistioge they immediately began looking for a place to
eat. About half way to the village Amber had declared that she very well might
starve to death if she didn’t eat soon.

"Look how beautiful that church is," Amber said as they turned a
corner and it came into view.

Logan turned left toward the downtown area. The road narrowed even more as
they made their way past old buildings and quiet businesses. "That looks
like a dinner over there."

"Is it open? It looks dark inside."

"It’s just the windows. I think it’s open," he said
but he kept on driving as they passed it.

"Stop the car," Amber said suddenly as she grabbed the dash and
pulled herself forward.
"Stop."

"What is it?"

Amber lifted her hand and pointed out the window. "Over there.
That pub.
The one with the crooked
sign."
She titled her head to the side slightly. "It looks
like the windows are crooked too. Ye
Olde
Roadside," she said as she read the name on the sign.

Logan pulled over, but left the car running. "What about it."

"We need to go in there." She stared at the pub, which to her
looked like a ramshackle, medieval castle. "Something about it feels
familiar."

Logan put the car in park and smiled.
"Really?"

Amber turned to him, excitement racing through her. "I think
I’ve been there before. We’ve been there."

Logan didn’t have the heart to tell her that all the places he had
taken her to they’d shared a life together. He had sat back and silently
hoped the locations would trigger her memories. But nothing had. At least
nothing had until now. But he guessed out of all the places for her to remember
this would be one of his favorites. Perhaps without him realizing it, it had
been one of hers too. "I’m not sure if they serve food
there."

"I don’t care. I need to see it. Let’s go," she said
as she flung open the car and jumped out. She reached for her purse.
"What are you waiting for?"

"I’m coming," he laughed as he struggled. "I’m
trying to find the door handle."

The moment Amber opened the door she was greeted by the pungent smell of
mold, cigars, and Guinness. The strangely familiar mixture of aromas caused her
to smile. As she moved into the dark room she could see warm bodies filled
almost every square inch. It was like they had stepped back in time.

"Smell that?" Amber asked Logan.

"I smell lots of things," he replied wearily. "What scent
in particular would you like me to be taking in?"

"It smells like fish and chips," she pointed out. "That
means they serve lunch."

Logan moved beside her. "Do you want to eat at the bar?"

Amber glanced at the jovial group who lined the long dark wood bar and then
glanced at a seat in the corner. "How about there. It will be more
private."

Logan took her by the hand and led her across the uneven plank floor to the
other side of the room. Holding out her chair he waited for her to sit before
he took a seat opposite her.

"I feel like I remember this place," Amber said as she looked
around taking in every detail.

"What do you remember?"

"It’s not so much that I remember anything specific," she
said over the loud crowd. "It’s more of a feeling. I feel like
I’m happy and content here." She cocked her head, thinking how to
phrase what she wanted to say. "Or I
have
been happy and content
here. I feel like this was home. Well not home, but this was my tavern and my
village at some point and time. I know what it smells like and what the folks
here are like."

He raised a brow.
"Folks?"

"Don’t’ tease me. I’m serious." She watched
him for a moment. "Something’s up. I can tell by the look on your
face. What do you know?"

"I know lots of things," he said with a grin. "Have I ever
told you how smart I am?"

"Logan—"

"Here comes the waitress. Let’s order our lunch first. Not ten
minutes ago you were so hungry you said you’d eat the dashboard if you
had to."

Shortly after their meal was served, at the rear of the pub, a small band
began to play traditional Irish music. People sang, a few danced, but everyone
mostly talked louder.

Logan gestured to her plate. "How is it?"

She finished chewing and then swallowed. "It’s good. I’m
not sure exactly what’s in it." She took another bit.
"I’m almost certain it has eggs and cheese in it. There is some
meat, too, but I haven’t identified yet. It was called Garden Pie—I
thought it would be just like a pot pie." She wrinkled her nose and after
a moment passed, she said, "I think there is fennel in it for
sure."

Logan grinned at her odd description and then took a long drink of beer.
"The question is
do
you like it?"

"I think I do," she said with a laugh. "What about
yours."

"I played it safe and went with the pan fried sausage." He
drained his beer and motioned to the waitress for another. "I’m
going to find the bathroom. I’ll be right back."

It had finally happened, Amber thought to herself as she watched Logan
disappear into the crowd. And it was about time too. She could actually feel
deep within her that she had at one time stood in this very spot. She could
sense that Logan had been with her, but she didn’t see it. She assumed
that she most likely would never have visions or dreams the way Logan did but
having a sense of déjà vu was enough for her.