Home to Eden (23 page)

Her wounded heart craved the healing sight of the desert under a mantle of wildflowers. Perhaps man hadn't lost paradise entirely, she thought, when the earth still retained glorious wild gardens.

They were airborne only minutes, when under a peacock-blue sky a vast Persian carpet opened out before their enchanted eyes. It ran on to the far horizons. This was what the Channel Country was famous for: countless legions of paper daisies, the brightest whites and yellows she'd ever seen, feathery gold and orange blossoms, the richest pinks and purples and violets, the delicacy of pale blue, lime and lilac, the blood-red desert peas; wild gardens so prolific they could only have been sown with great handfuls of seeds the Creator scattered from the sky. Soon this miracle of natural beauty would fade and die away, but the remarkable seed pods would rise eternal, bursting through the baked sun-scorched earth the very next time conditions were right.

For now what they looked down upon was the miracle of the Inland, the miracle she and Drake had been privileged to witness from childhood. The wonder never went away.

Drake set the chopper down amid the everlastings. There was scarcely a patch of fiery red soil not embroidered by flowers. This was the same ancient magic the Aborigines had been spectators to for more than forty thousand years.

When the whirling rotors stilled, they climbed out
of the chopper to have their nostrils bewitched by the strongest sweetest scents known to man. No perfume from a bottle, no matter how exquisite, could rival the scents of nature. Was it so surprising then, that standing in the midst of these fragrant masses that ran on mile after mile, Nicole felt tears well up in her eyes? The love of beauty, of natural things, was fundamental to her existence. These spectacular desert gardens were even more wonderful with Drake here to share them with her.

Drake gazed down at her face and saw the rapture there. At just the right moment he began to speak, unburdening his heart to her. Now, before it was too late, he had to tell her how much he loved her. What she meant to him. What she meant to his life. Eden simply didn't come into it. It was
she
he wanted. He couldn't get it wrong. If he broke down all barricades, maybe, just maybe, she would do the same.

As he spoke, his voice caressing her, her face began to shine and her eyes began to blaze.

It was the most moving voice she'd ever heard from him. Deep, thrilling, the sound penetrating her whole being. He spoke without fear of exposing his heart to her. Lines from the
Song of Solomon
fell, sweetly, gently from his lips:

“Has it, Nicole?” He took hold of her hand, bringing it to his mouth. “Will you stay and be my beau
tiful wife or will you fly away? There are tears in your eyes, my love.”

She blinked them away. “I always cry when I'm overcome with joy,” she said. “In this place, with you, I feel I can let any remaining sadness about Joel and everything that happened go.” She stared into Drake's dark eyes, losing herself there. “Was I dreaming a lovely dream, or did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I'm waiting for your answer.” His smile looked a little strained.

“But surely you know it already.”

“I'm not that sure of myself. I have to hear it. Nicole Cavanagh, will you marry me?”

She threw back her head, lifted her arms joyously, spreading the palms upward to the sky. “Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes. Today and forever. You're my favorite person in all the world. It seems like I've been waiting for you all my life.”

“In that case, hasn't enough time elapsed?” His touch was gentle but electric. “I'm going to make this world a safe place for you, Nic.”

“You already have,” she responded, her tone loving and positive. “Everything you've said to me has touched the innermost part of me. It's let in all this marvelous fresh air. You're unafraid to tell me how you feel. Now I want to tell
you.
I've wasted so much of my life unable to drive the tragedy of my mother's death from my mind. I should tell you, though I'm sure you already know, that as a McClelland I sometimes chose to strike out at you. Always that push-pull between us, all that conflict. Even so, I couldn't let
the bond between us break. You've always been important to me, Drake. Dr. Rosendahl may have helped me shed a lot of the debris from my mind, but your love for me has made me whole.” She moved into the arms he opened wide. “I love you. You're absolutely necessary to me. I see you as my husband, the father of my children. I'm ready to take up life with you.”

“The two of us from now on.”

“Perfect. Amen.”

For brief moments they stood enfolded within each other's arms, amid the wildflowers, then he raised her head to him, staring down into her eyes. “Here in this paradise, I've asked you to be my wife. It makes me gloriously proud and happy you've consented. I want to store up this scene in my memory, the everlastings all around us.” He glanced around them. “Bridal white. I want to remember your face, its exact expression, the look in your eyes. Love lifts a man to the skies. Let's fly together, my darling heart.”

She returned his kiss, soft, deep, reverent as the occasion demanded. They were blessed and they knew it.

Gradually, melting together, they slipped to the ground, their bodies crushing the thick cushion of dazzling white daisies, releasing the scent. They made love as if for the first time, the flowering earth for a bed.

 

A
LITTLE DISTANCE OFF
amid the everlastings stood the silver-gray skeleton of a mulga. What was very curious about the desert tree was that it appeared to burn with a glowing white light. Sculpted by wind and scorching sun, it had over time taken the abstract form
of a graceful young woman. The breeze appeared to toss her flowing mane as it lifted one of her bough-arms, suspending it in a wave. It created the amazing impression of offering the young lovers her blessing.

A trick of the dancing light, or some kind of magic? For in the next instant the sculpture once more became a petrified desert mulga.

The power of love. The power of nature. The power of two.