Love and Triumph: The Coltrane Saga, Book 8 (32 page)

And she welcomed his embrace, and his love, and his kiss of eternal devotion.

Sometimes, Marilee realized thankfully, there was a choice, after all.

Epilogue

They stood together on a windswept hill, overlooking the azure Mediterranean Sea.

There were no orchestras or flower-bedecked carriages. There was no huge gathering of important guests.

There were only the bride and groom, a padre to hear their vows, and a family to share their moment of love…and triumph.

Marilee was radiantly lovely in a gown of white lace; Cord was strikingly handsome in his suit of beige linen.

In the Spanish morning’s ethereal mist, memories were stirred, and the presence of loving ghosts were felt as they drifted down from heaven to witness the final triumph of love.

There was the ghost of Travis Coltrane—who with his devoted wife, Kitty, became legend in their days of love and war.

Present also was the tenacious spirit of Marilee Barbeau, to see her granddaughter wed, and the loving shadow of Dani Coltrane Mikhailonov, who made her mark in love and splendor…and would live forever in her daughter’s heart.

Colt Coltrane stood proudly, reminded of his own initiation into the Coltrane birthright as he lived through his days of love and fury, then found love and dreams with his beloved Jade.

Next to them stood their son, John Travis Coltrane the Second, and his lovely wife, Valerie, and their legacy to the saga—John Travis the Third.

Nearby were Kit and Kurt, who found love and honor, with their son and daughter beside them.

It had all begun nearly sixty years ago, in a small town in North Carolina at the dawn of the War Between the States, and had moved on so gloriously to that hilltop in Spain.

The padre pronounced the couple man and wife, then closed the brief service with the age-old benediction requested by Marilee.

“Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, hope, and comfort from above. Let us each, thy peace possessing, triumph in redeeming love.”
*

And the Coltrane saga would forever live on in the hearts of all who were privileged to know them.

*Benediction, Robert Hawker, 1753—1827

About the Author

Patricia Hagan might be the New York Times bestselling author of 38 novels and 2500 short stories, but she can also lay claim to being among the vanguard of women writers covering NASCAR stock-car racing. The first woman granted garage passes to major speedways, she has awards in TV commentary, newspaper and magazine articles, and for several years wrote and produced a twice-weekly racing program heard on 42 radio stations in the south.

Patricia’s books have been translated into many languages, and she has made promotional trips to Europe, including England, France, Italy, Norway, Greece, Turkey, Croatia, Spain and Ireland.

Hagan’s exciting eight-book Coltrane saga, which spans from the Civil War to the Russian Revolution, has appeared on every major bestseller list and is one of the most popular series published in France, never having been out-of-print in that country in nearly 30 years.

Born in Atlanta, Georgia, Patricia grew up all across the United States due to her father’s position as a federal attorney, finally settling in Alabama where she graduated from the University of Alabama with a major in English. She now resides with her husband in south Florida where she volunteers as a Court-appointed Guardian Ad Litem for abused children.

But of all her accolades and accomplishments, Patricia most of all loves to boast of being the proud mom of a Navy SEAL.

Look for these titles by Patricia Hagan

Now Available:

The Coltrane Saga

Love and War

The Raging Hearts

Love and Glory

Love and Fury

Love and Splendor

Love and Dreams

Love and Honor

Coming Soon:

Souls Aflame

Passion’s Fury

From the glory of Spanish haciendas to the thrilling excitement of New York and the shadowy streets of Morocco, true love knows no bounds.

Love and Honor

© 2012 Patricia Hagan

Beautiful Kit Coltrane has a fiery spirit to match her flame-red hair. No matter that her father is the U.S. Ambassador to Spain, Kit has no interest in all the fancy balls and dinner parties that go with his position.
 

It is at an embassy ball that wealthy rancher Kurt Tanner is smitten by the feisty beauty. A handsome, debonair man of the world, Kurt is used to being able to have way with any woman he chooses, and Kit’s aloofness only makes him all the more determined to possess her.

When the stubborn Kit is kidnapped and taken to Tangiers to be sold into white slavery, it is up to Kurt to try and save her and prove to her once and for all that she is the perfect woman—and spitfire—for him.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Love and Honor:

Spain

November 1912

Jade’s impatience was giving way to anger with each glance at her wristwatch.
Where was Kit?
It was time to leave for the depot, and missing the noon train to Madrid meant waiting another day to leave, which also meant missing out on some of the fun. American dignitaries and citizens living and working in Spain were celebrating Thanksgiving, as well as the election of their twenty-eighth president, Woodrow Wilson, back in Washington. Jade had been looking forward to the festivities for months and wanted to be part of the gala celebration.

She paced up and down the pink marble floor of her bedroom, pausing now and then to stare out the wide windows to the balcony and the fields beyond. Surely Kit hadn’t left the ranch, but where could she be?

With a sigh, she turned to the mirror, studying her traveling costume—dark silk blouse, blue serge jacket with a short flare above the hip, peg-top skirt, kid pumps. Her dark hair was parted in the middle and plaited in braids that crossed in back.

She knew she looked conservative and dignified, the way people expected the wife of an emissary to look.

For maybe the hundredth time, Jade wished she had never given in to Colt’s and Kit’s pleadings that she buy the ranch near Valencia, although she had to admit that it was one of the most beautiful regions of the Spanish countryside. With its abundance of orange, lemon, almond, and olive trees, pomegranates and palms, she found the area truly breathtaking.

Their home dated back to the era of El Cid, the most famous of all Spanish heroes. The palatial structure was designed with an inner garden laid out in terraces paved with mosaics and bordered with cypress and myrtle trees, fragrant with the scent of jasmine and roses. The house was built to afford a sweeping view of the aquamarine Mediterranean in front, and the land gently sloping to the rear was perfect for raising horses and cattle. Colt, however, had no time for that although he did arrange his schedule in Madrid to allow him time at home to enjoy the peace and tranquility.

It was truly a paradise, but Jade still harbored reservations about raising Kit here, amid a ruggedness that she’d never know in the cosmopolitan atmosphere of Madrid embassy life. Here Kit sometimes rode with the vaqueros working on the Frazier ranch down the road, even though it was forbidden. And Jade also did not like the way Kit trailed after Doc Frazier, their veterinarian, as he made his rounds. She had nothing against him personally. He was a nice enough man, an American who had decided to make his home in Spain after inheriting land from a distant Spanish relative. Jade just felt that such a free outdoor existence was not proper for a young girl of royal blood—
Romanov
blood. She had pleaded with Colt to send Kit to a finishing school, but he wouldn’t agree because Kit didn’t want it. She had a way of wrapping her daddy around her little finger that infuriated Jade. It was also, she mused resentfully, because of Colt’s mother. Jade adored and respected Kitty Coltrane, but they sometimes clashed because Kitty was very vocal in her opinion that Kit should be allowed to live her own life the way she chose. More than once Jade had let her mother-in-law know that Kitty was not going to tell her how to raise her daughter. It did no good. Kitty still spoke her mind when she felt like it and
always
took her namesake’s side.

Colt laughed when Jade worried, saying that his father had told him that his mother had been the same way when she was younger. Kit was the spitting image of Kitty Wright Coltrane, and that wasn’t so bad, was it? Jade would reluctantly agree, thinking all the while that things had no doubt been different when his mother was young and growing up on a small farm in North Carolina. She much preferred her daughter to be more genteel.

Jade had not wanted to leave New York nearly fourteen years ago to move to Spain. She had loved her life there, teaching ballet and dance in her very own, successful studio, enjoying her family, her church and charity work. It was flattering and exciting to be considered one of the city’s most respected society matrons. An invitation to a party at the palatial Coltrane mansion on Riverside Drive was almost as coveted as a weekend at their elegant home in the Catskills. In turn, she and Colt had been on the preferred guest list of every social function from New York to the White House.

All things considered however, Colt’s being asked to accept the position of emissary to Spain was an honor too grand to even consider not accepting…even though the offer had come at a very sad time in all their lives.

After months of smoldering tension, war had been declared between the United States and Spain. When President McKinley had persuaded Colt’s father, Travis, to come out of retirement in October of 1898 to serve as a special adviser during peace negotiations in Paris, the entire family had worried that the stress might be too much for him. Travis Coltrane had turned a deaf ear to their protests. He was a man of honor and dedication, and if he felt that his country needed him, he would be there to serve, as best he could. He did, however, request that his only son accompany him, and together the two had proven invaluable diplomats.

Sadly, however, the family’s fears proved true. On the tenth day of December, 1898, the day the Treaty of Paris was signed, formally ending the war, Travis Coltrane succumbed to a fatal heart attack.

It had been a difficult time for Colt, and Jade had felt that the assignment in Spain would help him get on with his life. She’d pushed aside her personal regrets over leaving because she loved him so.

All had gone well. Colt was one of the most respected government emissaries in Spain. Their life had been pleasant enough, but as Kit grew older, Jade felt that if she couldn’t persuade her to go to finishing school, then they should consider moving back to New York for the social and educational advantages there. Kit disagreed vehemently, arguing that if Kit’s twin, Travis, could live in France with Grandma Kitty, then she should be able to enjoy Europe, too. Jade knew that was only an excuse. Kit just preferred riding and the outdoors to what she considered “boring girl things”.

And as for John Travis living with his grandmother, well, Jade had reluctantly given in, with the understanding that he would live at home during the summer. He did, and they were all very close. Kitty was raising her other granddaughter, Marilee, alone. Marilee was actually Kitty’s
step
-granddaughter. A long time ago, in a dark part of Kitty and Travis’s lives, Travis had thought that Kitty was dead. He’d married a Kentucky lady named Marilee Barbeau who had died giving birth to their first and only child, Dani, Marilee’s mother.

Jade swallowed the painful lump that still rose in her throat whenever she thought of Dani…dear, sweet, gentle Dani, who had married Jade’s close Russian friend Drakar Mikhailonov. Theirs had been a rare and special kind of love, shadowed only by Dani’s inability to carry a baby to term. Then, on the day her father had died, Dani had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl…and joined her father in death.

Jade had promised Dani that she would raise her child as her own, but Kitty had insisted, and who could deny her in her grief over losing Travis? Despite their clashes over Kit, Jade admitted to having deep affection and respect for her mother-in-law.

As for Drakar, his wounded heart would never heal, for a part of him had died with his wife. He had returned to Russia to aid his lifelong friend, the Czar Nicholas, in troubled times. Though she seldom heard from him, Jade thought of him often, and fondly.

A knock on the door chased away her painful memories. She saw with disappointment, however, that it was the servant girl, Carasia, and not Kit. “Well, did you find her? Have any of the servants seen her?”

Carasia stared at the floor, picking nervously at her long peasant skirt, then admitted, “
Si
, I have found her,
señora
, but she said to tell you she cannot come now. She said she is sorry you will miss the train, but it cannot be helped, and she begs your forgiveness.”

Jade’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You mean she refuses to come?”

Carasia nodded and whispered, “
Si.
”