ELEMENTS: Acquiesce Kathryn Andrews (guided reading books .TXT) 📖

“A saucepan actually.” Breck smiled and removed Cordelia’s cap. Her soft, grey hair tumbled around her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Cordelia.

“Looking like this?”

“They’re just war wounds and you’ve lived to tell the tale. Who cares what anyone else thinks. You’ve nothing to hide.”

They locked the tavern and left through the back door. Seagulls squawked in the clear blue sky and the warm April sun gently kissed Breck’s bruises as he stepped into the daylight.

“I see you’ve brought a friend with you,” said Breck.

“Breck, this is Réalta, Réalta, this is Breck.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Breck, patting Réalta’s nose. “So where are we heading?”

“The Bridges of Ross.”

“Is that wise after last time?”

“We can’t stay away forever, it’s too beautiful.

Breck and Cordelia raced out of town on their horses, laughing wildly as adrenalin pumped through their veins.

At the Bridges of Ross they tied the horses to a post at the top of the slip way and hurried down to the sparkling rocks. The sight made Cordelia’s heart sing. The rocks looked resplendent in the sunlight.

“Will you come in?” asked Cordelia, pulling off her boots.

Breck dithered.

“Come on, salt water heals all wounds,” said Cordelia, stripping naked and leaping into the sea.

Wide eyed, Breck pulled off his clothes and leapt in after her. “You’re wild!” he called.

They frolicked in the water, splashing and laughing and then Cordelia dived below the surface, splashing Breck with her tail. When she surfaced, Breck and Cordelia stopped jesting and stared at each other intently. Cordelia swam over to Breck and gently doused his face with salt water. Breck closed his eyes as the water trickled over his long eye lashes. He placed his hands on Cordelia’s waist and pulled her in closer. Her eyes met his chest and she cast her eyes over the water droplets that glistened against his skin. She traced the contours of his broad, muscular shoulders and her hair brushed against his chin. Trembling, Cordelia glanced up. Breck bowed his head and kissed her softly on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

“Let’s not let anything come between us,” whispered Breck.

“Never,” replied Cordelia.

Breck scooped Cordelia in his arms and carried her out of the water. Her tail became legs and she stepped down onto the rocks. They dressed before choosing a spot to sit and watch the sea.

“Why did your aunt strike you?” asked Cordelia eventually.

“She’s not herself,” said Breck. “She’s a lot on her mind.”

“That’s no excuse for hurting you,” said Cordelia.

“She wanted someone to blame.”

“What for?”

“Everything. The loss of her family, the failing business.”

“What will happen to the tavern?”

Breck shrugged. “The landlord’s given notice. I guess I’ll have to leave.”

“But what will he do with an empty property?”

“Who knows. Perhaps he’ll rent it to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Where will you live?”

“I’d live in a cave if it meant I’d be near you.”

Cordelia smiled. “What if you could prove the landlord wrong? If you could make a good profit, would he let you stay?”

“It’s too late,” said Breck.

“But what if it isn’t? You don’t have to leave for another three weeks.”

“What difference would it make? Nothing’s changed. Why would the punters come now?”

“Things have changed. Your aunt and uncle have gone and Flynn’s come back.”

“I see where this is leading.”

“Don’t you see? You need him as much as he needs you. People in this town like nothing better than to gossip. They’ll be queuing out the door to catch a glimpse of the fisherman that came back from the dead. What’s more, he’s your father. Give him a chance.”

“He’s your father,” said Breck.

“Not really,” said Cordelia.

Puzzled, Breck asked, “Why do you say that?”

“He’s not my natural father. If he was then we’d be related, but we’re not.”

“Oh. That would be weird.”

“But it’s not weird is it, because he’s not my real father.”

“But you love him as your father, you shouldn’t deny him that.”

“You’re not listening,” complained Cordelia. “If I acknowledge him as my real father then I can’t be with you. People would say it was incest.”

“Since when did you care what people think?”

“I care what Flynn thinks.”

“And what does he think?”

“He sees us both as his children. Siblings.”

“But we’re not,” said Breck.

“I know.”

“Does he know about us?”

Cordelia shook her head.

Breck ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing’s ever simple is it?”

“Let’s make a vow,” suggested Cordelia, standing, “right here on these rocks.”

“A vow?”

Cordelia leaned forward and took Breck’s hands in hers, pulling him to his feet. “A vow that we will never be parted.”

Standing on the shimmering rocks and bathed in sunlight with only the elements as their witnesses, the pair held hands as they made their vows.

Breck looked lovingly into Cordelia’s eyes and said “I, Breck Braden Kelly promise to love you until the end of our days and let nothing come between us.”

His words took Cordelia’s breath away and then she replied, “I, Cordelia, daughter of the sea,” she smiled and laughed a little before clearing her throat to compose herself, “promise to love you for the rest of our days, until the stars fade and the tides stop turning and I will let nothing come between us.”

They sealed their vows with a kiss and walked hand in hand back to their horses.

“Shall I tell Flynn you’re ready to talk?” asked Cordelia, untying Réalta from the post.

“I suppose there’s no harm in talking,” said Breck.

The young lovers ambled back to town, riding side by side. They attracted attention from the town folk as they rode along the seafront. Breck returned to the tavern and Cordelia continued the journey to the lighthouse to fetch Flynn.

Flynn rose from his chair when Cordelia burst into his chamber. “Any luck?” he asked, hopefully.

Cordelia smiled widely, “He’s agreed to talk, though he looks a bit worse for wear.”

“In what way?”

“He’s two black eyes.”

“Bar fights now is it?”

“Not exactly,” said Cordelia, “his aunt struck him with a saucepan.”

“The woman wants locking up,” said Flynn.

“She’s gone to