Charlotte Boyett-Compo - Sa - Dancing On The Wind.pdf - Boyett-Compo Charlotte - terranova.books

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Dancing on the Wind

ISBN 9781419915178

Edited by Mary Moran.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication April 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in

part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing,

Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal

punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

D ANCING ON THE W IND

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the

following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation

BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft

Bugs Bunny: Time Warner Entertainment Company, L.P.

“Demolition Man”: Words and Music by Sting

Desert Eagle XIX: Israel Military Industries Ltd

Doctors Without Borders: Bureau International de Medecins sans Frontieres Not-

For-Profit Corporation

Glock 19: Glock, Inc.

GPS: Randazzo, William Salvator

Harley-Davidsons: H-D Michigan, Inc

Ka-Bar: Alcas Corporation

Knights of Columbus: Knights of Columbus Corporation

Lear: Lear Corporation

M1: Aero Development & Engineering, Inc.

M3 Trench Knife: Camillus Cutlery, Inc.

McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

Pepsi: Pepsico, Inc.

Porsche Boxster: Dy. Ing. h. c. F. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft

Ray-Bans: Bausch & Lomb Inc.

Ritz: Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company, L.L.C

“Soul and Inspiration”: Words and Music by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil

Star Wars : Lucasfilm Entertainment Company Ltd.

Uzi: Israel Military Industries Ltd

Wizard of Oz : Turner Entertainment Co.

Dancing on the Wind

Prologue

Present Day

The bitter Iowa wind blowing across the grassy expanse chilled bone-deep as it

skirled through the black walnut trees. Rain plinked hollowly upon a small sea of black

umbrellas to stream ceaselessly to the already spongy ground. Hanging low in the

sodden gray sky, the clouds looked as bruised and battered as he felt—bereft of

warmth, saturated with despair. Looking up at the harsh winter heavens, blinking

against the cold invasion of the falling rain striking his upturned face and splattering

the dark glasses he was wearing, he thought it an appropriate day for what was

happening in front of him. Lowering his head, he stared dully at the tall, cadaverously

thin man dressed in white who was officiating. With detachment, he looked around

him at the others who had gathered at this gloomy, freezing hour but never quite met

the eyes of his fellow mourners. He was too numb, too dazed, too tired to tolerate either

the pitying gazes or the pointed glares aimed his way. He had refused the place offered

him beneath the protection of the canopy, preferring to stand alone in the rain—an

outsider, a looker-on—alienating himself from the inner circle.

Despite his better judgment, his attention wandered to the flag-draped casket and

he felt once again the force of that humbling sight to the very marrow of his bones, to

the depths of his aching heart, and he jerked his gaze away again. He wanted this

obligatory ceremony over and done with. He wanted to leave this wretched hilltop

upon which rows of white marble markers with their small bronze emblems of faith

above the name of the dead stretched out like dragon teeth tearing through the earth.

He wanted to drink himself into oblivion to blot out the memories that kept assailing

him at every turn.

“Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,” the priest intoned.

“And let perpetual light shine upon her,” those gathered who were of the Catholic

faith responded.

“May she rest in peace,” the priest said.

“Amen,” replied almost every one of the assembled.

Everyone except him, he thought as his vision drifted to the mound of dirt barely

covered by the tacky green carpet. His stomach roiled at the sight and bile raced up his

gullet. He had to forcefully swallow to keep it down.

The priest closed the book he carried. “May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful

departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.”

“Amen.”

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